Goodbye Vassar
by coffeecoffeecoffee83
Summary: NOW COMPLETE! It's hard enough being a 'normal' 15-year-old. Add in getting pregnant, and suddenly things don't seem as happy and rosy as your guidance counsellor made out. Lorelai's life from Rory's conception to moving to Stars Hollow.
1. Lorelai's Mistake

**A/N: **First off, I should point out that while it is true that I like The Offspring way better than Metallica, I don't like Chris one little bit. Just trust me that if you stick with it, his true personality (in my humble opinion) will emerge. Trust, people! It's a wonderful thing!

Secondly, I'm a review addict. I am starting to conquer my coffee addiction, but my review addiction just won't budge. So help me feed the addiction, or I may resort to harder drugs (kidding!).

Thirdly, if you're going 'I've read this somewhere before', that's because part of it is already up on BWR. Just spreading the love here, peeps.

And lastly, enjoy!!

***Lorelai's Mistake***

Lorelai shivered and sat up, reaching out for her clothes. She picked up a shirt and threw it at Chris. He groaned as he sat up. She looked at him as she got dressed, wondering why having sex on her balcony in the middle of January had seemed such a good idea ten minutes ago. Now – not so much. They were only just sheltered from the snow by the third floor balcony, and she was pretty sure that her back would never defrost from where it had been laying on the cold tiles.

She crawled back through the window, and sat on her bed. She watched as Chris made his way back into her bedroom, a pleased look on his face. She rolled her eyes to herself. God, boys were so easily pleased. Not exactly how she had planned to spend tonight though. Sure, she had been all for sneaking out of her parents boring party to go make out, but she hadn't planned on taking it this far.

"Uh... I should probably get back downstairs," she said, not really to Chris, more to herself. She pulled her unruly hair up onto her head, and quickly pushed some hairpins into it, hoping that it would be tidy enough to please her mother.

"Yeah, of course... sure," Chris almost stuttered, looking in her mirror, attempting to tie his tie. Lorelai grew even more frustrated watching him fumble with it, groaned, and walked over to do it for him. His fingers fumbling on his tie were very reminiscent of how his fingers were behaving a few minutes earlier.

"There," she said shortly when she was finished.

"Thanks, Lor. Um... this was great," he blushed.

She turned her back on him and started to walk to the door. As she opened it, she turned back to him, and forced a smile. "Yeah. It was," she lied, making sure to keep the smile fixed firmly on her face.

She stood in the upstairs hall for a minute, giving Chris a head start. Not only because she didn't want to look suspicious coming down together, but because she wanted to be alone. She didn't want him treating her like she was another one of his possessions. She knew that she would flinch at the feel of his hand on the small of her back. She just didn't want to be around him right now. But the thing was, she didn't know why. This was Christopher – her Christopher. He loved her, and she loved him. They were like the golden couple of the sophomore class. Had been friends forever, and dating for a year and a half. It was natural that their relationship would take that next step. And she had wanted it. If she didn't, she could have said no, and he wouldn't have minded at all. It was the way she had been flirting and teasing all night that told her that she had wanted it.

So why did she now feel so weird? Almost empty? She had thought that having sex would bring them closer together – that he would love her even more. But instead, it seemed to have put more distance between them. No, that wasn't right. Chris seemed exactly the same. The distance seemed to be only in her.

Lorelai really wished that she hadn't been the first of her friends to lose her virginity. She wanted someone else to talk to about this. Normally, she would talk to Chris about everything – but that wasn't possible in this situation, was it? How could she explain to him that she was already regretting what they had done?

She took a deep breath and walked down the stairs, trying her hardest to look innocent – like she had just been in the bathroom, freshening up, or taking a phone call. She saw Chris standing across the room in a group of their friends. He shot her a huge grin, and waved her over to them.

"Here," he whispered to her when she arrived at his side. He glanced around to make sure nobody was looking, and handed her a silver flask. She took a long swig, and handed it back to him. As he put it back in his pocket, Mitchell Frist wandered over to them casually.

"We're starting a sub-party in the poolhouse. You guys coming?" he asked the group. Everyone nodded and wandered off in the direction of the door.

"I'll go steal some booze from the kitchen," Lorelai told them as they departed, and extricated herself from Christopher's grip. She furrowed her brow trying to work out how long he had been draping his arm over her shoulders.

"Don't be too long," he grinned at her. "You don't want us to die of thirst."

"No I don't." She looked him over. "Because what would Belle Watling's fine establishment be without copious amounts of alcohol?"

He smiled at her. "Well, if you manage to see Belle on your travels, can you ask her to provide us with an alibi? I hear that she's pretty good at that."

She relaxed. "Naturally." She hadn't thought that he would have got that reference, and the fact that he did somehow made her smile.

She walked into the kitchen with an air of authority which she modelled on her mother, so that the servers wouldn't question her when she walked out with the champagne. She was just about to leave when her mother herself walked in, yelling at the help. She quickly placed the bottles on the counter behind her, and turned to face her mother.

"Lorelai," Emily exclaimed. "I was just speaking to Francine Hayden. We were saying that it seems that you and Christopher are getting quite serious."

Lorelai looked her mother up and down. She couldn't remember any time that her mother had been interested in her life, and it really threw her for a moment. "Um... I suppose so." She wondered where Emily was going with this.

"I believe that this relationship could be quite beneficial for both of our families. The Haydens are very influential at the club – your father would appreciate the improved tee-times that an association with Straub could bring."

The light went on in Lorelai's head. So her mother didn't care about her life – she only cared about what she could get out of it.

Emily continued, "Maybe you could mention something to Christopher."

"Uh, maybe, mom." She tried to change the subject. "Oh, did that waiter just walk out with a half empty tray?"

That worked. "Argh! What do I need to do to get some decent staff?" she groaned, and stormed after the offending waiter.

Lorelai sighed and headed out the back door with four bottles of bubbly – the most she could carry. Why did she always want her mother to care about her life? Time after time, she would get her hopes up that she could have a normal mother-daughter relationship, and only to get her hopes dashed. It was just like when she was in kindergarten, and would come home with a painting she had made of her family, proud as punch, and her mother would glance at it before shooing her up to her bedroom to 'play quietly'.

As she entered the poolhouse, she plastered the happy-party-girl face on. "Who's ready to party?" she squealed at the gathered group of kids. A cheer rose up. She handed over three of the bottles to a couple of guys, but hugged the last bottle to her chest. "This one is all mine," she grinned at them, popping the cork out, and taking a large gulp straight out of the bottle. She savored the feeling of the drink flowing down her throat, knowing that it wouldn't be long before she was completely drunk. The half bottle of scotch she and Christopher had shared upstairs was also helping. Inebriation was the best way to forget about her callous mother and what she had just done with Christopher.

After several long swigs of the champagne, Culture Club came on the stereo, and Lorelai grabbed the closest person to her to dance with, continuing to drink from the bottle as she danced. When the song finished, she collapsed on the sofa, and Christopher came and sat next to her, draping his arm over her shoulders. She looked at her boyfriend.

"Hey. I know you."

Christopher laughed. "Yip. I'd say you know me quite well." A small blush crept over his cheeks.

She remembered what had happened earlier that evening, and giggled, before falling towards him, and kissing him hard. Christopher was not going to be the one to stop her, and they kept making out until she sat up quickly several minutes later, and ran from the room. Christopher followed her, and found her on the bathroom floor throwing up. He sat down next to her, and rubbed her back.

"You okay, Lor?" he asked her when she quietened down.

"Mmmhmmm," she mumbled.

"Let's get you up to bed," he suggested, and led her out of the poolhouse, and towards the kitchen door, and the back stairs, hoping that they wouldn't run into any adults they knew.

"You're too good to me," Lorelai muttered as they climbed the stairs.

"That's cause I love you, Lor," he explained simply.

"Uh huh," she agreed, noticing how she didn't say anything about her loving him. Even in her drunken state, she realized the Freudian nature of what she had, or hadn't, said.

Lorelai woke the next morning, confused. She didn't know how she had gotten into her pyjamas and into bed, but presumed that Christopher had done it. There was also a big glass of water and some asprin sitting on the bedside table. She sat up slowly, and consumed the water and asprin, before falling back against the pillows again. She lay there thinking about the night before – what she remembered of it, anyway. Knowing how much Christopher cared for her, she made a conscious decision to ignore that nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her something wasn't right. It would just be easier. This wasn't a fairy tale – nothing in her life was at all like a fairy tale, so why should a high school romance be any different? The simple facts were this: Christopher loved her; she really liked him, and could fall in love with him given time. No problems. Life was good.


	2. The Wish Box

***The Wish Box***

Lorelai climbed out of the car, and turned back to thank the driver, but he was already pulling away from the curb. As soon as he was out of sight, she ran behind a grove of trees in front of the school and started her daily routine. First her tidy knee socks were pushed down to make them look like leg warmers – just like Olivia Newton John had taught her. Her blouse was pulled out of her skirt, and the top two buttons were opened, her tie loose around her neck. She rolled the waistband of the skirt over several times, making said skirt a couple of inches shorter. She then tugged her hair out of it's rubber band, and ruffled it a bit to give it more volume. Leaving her hair wild and hanging over her shoulders, she grabbed her bookbag and walked casually through the doors into school.

She put a big smile on her face as she saw a group of her friends hanging out by Christopher's locker. She approached them, and exchanged short pleasantries, before grabbing Chris by the collar and dragging him into the nearest classroom. She heard her friends laughing and whooping at her forwardness as she closed the door.

"Morning nookie. Rad," Christopher smiled as her leant towards her.

Lorelai pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him away slightly. "Not exactly, sorry," she told him. "We need to talk."

Christopher gave her a long look. "Sure. What's up?"

"I don't know exactly how to say this without hurting you – your feelings, that is," she started, knowing that she was going to start rambling, but unable to stop it. "I was sitting in my room last night, watching E.T. on video. That little girl is really cute, and was a really good actress. Too bad child actors don't make it as adult actors." She digressed. "But anyway, I was thinking about everything that happened on Saturday night." She saw a smile creep over Chris' face, and he moved towards her. "I mean, I was definitely an instigator in all of that along with Mr. Alcohol, so don't feel bad or anything, and it was good. It's just that... I don't know if I was exactly ready to take that step. I probably shouldn't have, and now I just feel all weird. I was thinking that, maybe, we should go back to how we were before." She saw Chris' face darken – could see the hurt she was causing him. "I like you Chris. I just want to wait a bit before we... do... what we did... again."

She stepped towards Christopher, and placed a kiss on his lips, but he didn't reciprocate. She looked at him pleadingly. "Chris? Can you please see where I'm coming from? I don't want you to be mad at me. I'm just not ready to have that kind of relationship. But sometime soon I will be."

He sighed. "Of course I'm not mad at you, Lor. It's your decision to make. I just thought... that it was what you wanted too."

She frowned at him. "I thought it was what I wanted, too. I really did. After the fact, I'm not so sure. Actually, I read a lot of Cosmos when I got up yesterday, and apparently lots of girls feel really weird after their first time. So don't think you did anything wrong."

"Okay," Chris agreed. "But are we good?"

She gave him a big grin, relieved he wasn't going to dump her. "We're great." She gave him another kiss, which this time he reciprocated. They pulled apart as the bell rang, and they quickly picked up their books and ran into the hall.

"Sit with me at lunch?" Christopher called at her as he headed towards his English class, making his way through the emptying halls.

"Course. Every day," she yelled back at him, opening the door to her first period Biology class.

"Miss Gilmore, quiet please," her teacher, Mr Woodward chastised her. "And you are late yet again."

"Sorry, sir," Lorelai mumbled as she took her seat at the back of the class. She opened her textbook to Chapter 12 – Human Reproduction, as instructed by the large note on the chalkboard, and started doodling, not paying attention to the lecture at all.

When Lorelai got home from school, she wandered around the first floor, casually wondering if anyone was home. The only person she found was the latest maid, Johanna, starting to prepare dinner. She made her way upstairs into her room, and threw her bookbag on the floor. She checked that her door was fully closed, reached under her bed, and pulled out a shoebox. It had been decorated with glitter, pieces of sparkly material and pink feathers. She settled herself carefully on her bed, her legs crossed under her, and took a deep breath.

Looking through this box had become a habit recently. She called it her Wish Box. In it, she had collected pictures, brochures, articles, and things she had just scribbled down. Everything represented a dream she had for her future. There was a picture of a pretty, white-picket-fence house. There was a drawing of a great outfit she had seen in a store window at the mall. There was a postcard from Paris, on which she had drawn a stick figure representing herself in a hotel window, and a figure representing Christopher on a bench in the park.

But her favorite thing was a small red brochure. She drew it out slowly, and studied the Vassar logo carefully. When she looked at it, she could see herself wearing a sweater with that logo on it. She could see herself strolling into a small lecture hall, coffee in hand. She could see her tiny dorm room, the walls covered in posters, and clothes on the floor – with none of the decorating touches that her mother would have chosen. She could see freedom.

Even at 15, Lorelai knew that the life her parents wanted for her wasn't the life she wanted to lead. She didn't want to go to Yale, much to her father's disappointment. They had, however, agreed that Vassar was an acceptable institution for their only child. She sighed happily at the thought of being a college student. At college, she could be whoever she wanted to be – she could be herself, without worrying about how people saw her. She wouldn't have her mother criticizing the way she stood, the way she dressed, the way she talked, the music she listened to...

After taking in every detail of the pamphlet, she carefully replaced it in the box, and took out one more object. It was a picture of Bono, which she kissed quickly, before putting everything away. Lorelai slid the box back under her bed, and walked over to her dresser. She picked up her Magic 8-ball, and sat back on the bed with it.

"Am I going to be happy at college?" she asked the ball as she shook it.

She took a deep breath as she turned the ball over, and then frowned when she saw the answer 'Reply Hazy, Try Again'.

She sighed and shook the ball again. "Am I going to be happy at college?" she asked more forcefully.

Turning the ball over, she saw 'Better not tell you now'.

"Okay. Again – am I going to be happy at college?"

The ball answered 'Cannot predict now'.

She groaned, and fell back on the bed, throwing the ball onto her pillows. "Stupid toy," she yelled at the top of her voice at no one in particular. "I've never seen it be so indecisive," she mumbled, glancing at the offending object.

Just then, there was a knock at her door. Emily stuck her head in the room. "Who are you yelling at, Lorelai?"

Lorelai sighed. "Nobody, mother. I'm fine."

"Fine. I thought you were being murdered, and I don't think I pay Johanna enough to justify her cleaning up your lifeless body."

"Thanks for your concern, Mom," she muttered as the door closed.

Lorelai was just starting her homework when the phone next to her bed started to ring. She picked it up. "Hey Lor," Christopher said.

"Hi Neighbor. What can I do you for?"

"I just wanted to check you were okay. You were pretty quiet all day – that's so not like you," he questioned her.

"Yeah I'm fine," she reassured him, and giggled. "Maybe I'm just still a bit jaded from my alcohol consumption on Saturday. You know how it is."

He didn't seem convinced. "Okay, sure...."

They sat in silence for a few seconds, as Lorelai twirled her hair around her finger distractedly. Eventually, she broke the awkward silence. "Hey Chris, where do you think you'll go to college?"

He paused for a moment. "Well... I like the look of Stanford. But my Dad has his heart set on me going to Princeton, so I guess that's it. Princeton would be a lot closer to you, as well, which would be great."

"Yeah, no point in giving American Airlines any more money than necessary. New York to New Jersey is driveable."

"Lor, would you consider coming to Princeton with me?" he asked, with a scared note in his voice.

"Uh..." she thought for a minute how not to hurt his feelings. "I'll probably apply there, but I really want to go to Vassar. It won't be too bad. We can see each other at weekends and whatever. Anyway, it's still two years, seven and a half months until we go to college."

Christopher laughed at her. "You really are counting down the days, aren't you? You'd give Lee Stegler a run for his money."

Lorelai giggled. "Yeah except I'm not competing with the Russians – just a million other kids for a place at college. Anyway, if you lived with Richard and Emily, you'd be counting down until you could leave."

"Hey!" Christopher objected. "Straub and Francine aren't exactly the perfect parents, either."

"I pity the fool who tries to take away the Gilmore's 'Worst Parents in Hartford' award," Lorelai laughed, in her best Mr T. voice.

"Fine," Christopher admitted. "I don't want to take you on." Lorelai heard a voice yelling in the background through the phone.

"Oh, shit. I need to go. Dad's home," he told her. "You sure everything's good with you?"

"Yes, Chris," Lorelai sighed. "Everything is fine. Now, I need to do my homework before Fame comes on."

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"

"Yip," she reassured him, before hanging up the phone.

She reached over, and picked up the magic 8-ball again. "Right, last chance, buddy," she told the toy. "Am I going to be happy at college?" She shook the ball with all her might.

She slowly turned the ball over, and peered at the answer. 'Ask again later' appeared in the liquid.

"Argh!" she moaned, and flopped back against the pillows. "Why won't you tell me about college?" she asked the ball, shaking it again.

She looked at the answer – 'Concentrate and ask again'.


	3. Lorelai Gilmore's Day Off

*****Lorelai Gilmore's Day Off*****

_February_

"Eugch," Lorelai groaned as she rested her head against the cold porcelain of the toilet. She'd been queasy for days now, but this was the first time she'd actually thrown up. She slowly pushed herself up, and checked her reflection that nothing had got in her hair or on her face. She grabbed the thermometer out of the bathroom cabinet, and stumbled back to bed, gripping the pillow tightly over her face. On Sunday, she had thought the sickness was from drinking too much at the Billington's cocktail party her mother had dragged her to. But now it was Wednesday, and she had just gotten worse.

A few minutes later, Emily walked into the room, and opened the drapes. "For God's sake, Lorelai. Get up. You're going to be late for school."

"Uh," Lorelai moaned, forcing her head further under the covers. "I think I've got the fricking 'flu or something, Mom. I've been barfing."

"Lovely language," Emily sighed. "Are you sure you haven't come down with a Math test?"

"Yes Mother. This time I am actually sick. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Fine. I'll send Antoinette up to check on you later."

Once Emily had left, Lorelai took the thermometer off her bedside table and stuck it into her mouth. She watched the clock for two minutes before taking it out of her mouth.

"Huh. Weird. 98.3. It's fine," she mused, before lying down again, and trying to ignore the nausea she was feeling.

Around midday, Lorelai was watching The Young and the Restless, when there was a knock at the door.

"What?" she called, presuming it was the maid for the fifth time that day. She was betting that Emily had asked Antoinette to make sure she didn't have any fun.

"Lor?" Chris poked his head in the room. "Can I come in?"

"Oh yeah, course." She sat up straighter and trying to tame her bed-head. "Why aren't you at school?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "Wanted to check on you. Also, didn't feel like doing calculus, so works out well for me. How you doing?"

"Was sick this morning, but better now. Now, I'm trying to work out how it's possible that I only watched this show a month ago, and now I don't recognize any of the characters. Seriously, so many people come and go, that you'd make a killing being a real estate agent in Genoa City."

Christopher laughed at her. "Yeah, sounds like you're fine."

"Also, Antoinette will only let me have soup, and I'm starving." She scowled in the direction of the door.

Christopher settled himself on the bed next to her. "Well," he told her with a big grin on his face, "it's a good thing I managed to smuggle this in." He produced a Mars bar from his pocket.

"Oh! You're a saint. I love you!" she held him in a tight hug, before ripping into the candy bar. It was gone in less than a minute. She looked at him sideways. "So….," she began, an evil grin on her face, "you wanna make out for a while? I feel much better. Emily is at a DAR lunch, and then she has her weekly hair appointment."

Christopher pretended to think for a second. "Hell, yes. But if I get sick, you have to bring me candy too."

"Deal," she agreed, leaning towards him.

About an hour later, Christopher left to go back to school, leaving Lorelai to her own devices. She climbed out of bed, and padded down to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of leftover Spaghetti Carbonara, and demolished it without pausing. Still hungry, she looked around the kitchen and saw a chocolate cake cooling on the counter. She cut herself a large piece and ate it quickly. She poured herself a cup of coffee to take back to bed, and taking a second thought, cut another piece of cake. As she walked out of the kitchen, her eyes fell on the fruit bowl, something she usually completely ignored. Today, though, it looked strangely appealing. She picked out an apple and added it to her plate of cake before returning upstairs.

After drinking her coffee, and eating the second piece of cake, Lorelai looked suspiciously at the apple. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten an actual piece of fruit. She took a tentative bite, and chewed slowly. She considered it carefully, and then smiled. Yes, that was exactly what she had been craving. She finished it off, nibbling as close to the core as was possible – getting as much flesh off as she could.

She leant back on the bed, and pulled her walkman headphones onto her ears, turning the volume right up. Halfway through 'Jump' by Van Halen, her new favorite song, which she had recorded off the radio just the day before, she pressed stop and sat up. That apple had been great, and she really wanted another one.

"Wow, being sick makes me want the weirdest stuff," she muttered to herself as she descended the stairs again.

She took another two apples from the kitchen, and went back towards the stairs. As she walked into the living room, she collided with Antoinette, who was dusting the top of the doorframe.

"I.. I… I'm sorry… Miss Gilmore," Antoinette mumbled.

"Nah, my fault," Lorelai called as she kept walking.

"You seem a lot healthier this afternoon, Miss. Will you be back at school tomorrow?" Antoinette asked politely.

"Yeah, I think so," Lorelai answered as she walked up the first flight of stairs. "See you at dinner. Make it big – I'm hungry."

At dinner that evening, Emily kept looking suspiciously at Lorelai as she ate.

"You seem to have regained your appetite, I see," Emily remarked.

"Mmmm, yeah it seems so," Lorelai answered between bites. She reached for some more potatoes, and continued. "I only felt sick for a few hours. It was weird." She shrugged it off.

Richard looked up from his newspaper – something that Emily didn't approve of at the dinner table. "Sounds like you came down with a Math test to me," he chimed in.

Emily nodded. "That's exactly what I thought," she agreed, glaring slightly at her daughter.

Lorelai put down her fork with a clatter. "Fine. Think what you like. But if you called the school, you would find that I didn't have any tests at all today. But of course you don't believe your own flesh and blood when she tells you she is unwell." She slouched down in her chair, pouting.

"Of course, Lorelai," Emily countered begrudgingly. "I believe you."

The rest of dinner and dessert was eerily quiet between the two women. Richard continued to read his newspaper, oblivious to the tension.

* * *

Lorelai and Christopher walked into school together Thursday morning. He had his arm around her shoulders protectively. She enjoyed the safe feeling it gave her, but wasn't going to tell him that. They walked to his locker, and he put several books inside, before walking her to her own locker. After she had deposited her own unwanted texts, she leaned against the wall of cold metal. Chris leaned in towards her, and kissed her firmly, ignoring all the other students walking past.

As they pulled apart, someone hit Chris on the back.

"Get a room, why don't you?" Jacob Latham, one of Chris's friends, remarked snidely.

"Jealous, much?" Chris retorted, punching his friend lightly on the arm.

Jacob looked Lorelai up and down. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't say no to that."

"I won't tell Sarah that," Lorelai muttered.

"Hey, don't get me wrong," Jacob defended. "Sarah's an awesome girl. But she's got nothing on you." He leered at her.

Christopher glared a bit at his friend as he put his arm around his girlfriend.

All of a sudden, Lorelai felt a wave of nausea sweep over her. "Excuse me. I'll be back in a minute," she told Chris quietly, and walked quickly to the girls bathroom nearby. She was glad there was only one girl in there, and she was just leaving. She made it into the stall just in time. She was just walking out of the stall, a girl she knew from English, Amelia or something, walked in. Lorelai wiped her mouth with a paper towel and washed her hands. Amelia looked at Lorelai strangely before choosing a stall. Lorelai shrugged to herself and went out to rejoin Christopher.

"Hey," he said as she approached. He looked at her carefully. "You look pale. Everything okay?" he asked her quietly.

"Yeah. I maybe shouldn't have come back to school today is all. But I'll be fine."

"Sure. Let me know if you need to go home. I'll walk you, 'kay?" he requested, a concerned look on his face.

"Yip. Laters," she agreed as he kissed her quickly and they went their separate ways down the hall. She watched him just long enough to see Amelia, from the bathroom, run up to Chris and whisper something in his ear. Lorelai watched as Chris tried to say something back, but the girl just laughed out loud and then sauntered back over to her friends.


	4. Presenting Lorelai Gilmore

*****Presenting Lorelai Gilmore*****

_March_

"Have you asked Christopher yet?" Emily asked.

"Have I asked Christopher what yet?" Lorelai sighed, pushing her peas around her plate.

Emily sighed. "Honestly, Lorelai. Have you asked Christopher to be your escort for the debutante ball yet?"

Lorelai looked at her mother. "Honestly, Lorelai?" she mocked. "Huh. It could have meant anything. Have you asked Christopher if he's actually a little purple spaceman? Have you asked Christopher if he has aspirations to run a four-minute mile? Have you asked Christopher to elope in Vegas? Have you asked Christopher if he likes eggplant? Have you…"

"Enough, Lorelai," Richard interrupted in an exasperated tone. "All you needed to do was to answer your mother's simple question."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "No, Mom. I have not asked Christopher to be my escort," she answered condescendingly.

"Well, please make sure you do it tomorrow. I need to make sure that his tuxedo matches your dress."

Lorelai tried to work out how a black and white tuxedo could clash with a pure white dress, but gave up quickly.

"Fine. I will ask him tomorrow," she told Emily, as she moved on to moving her carrots around the plate.

"Seriously. You are going to be 16 next month, Lorelai. I guess it is too much to expect some level of maturity from you – maybe to take your coming out somewhat seriously," Emily chastized.

Lorelai didn't say anything, preferring to continue staring at her plate.

Emily continued as if nothing was wrong with her daughter. "Now, we will be having the portrait done on Saturday. Please bring the dress downstairs tomorrow morning so Arletta can take it to the dry-cleaners. Sunday afternoon you have the rehearsal in the Rose Room. You need to learn the fan dance, and how to walk down the stairs etc…."

Lorelai scoffed. "From my recollection, I have been walking down stairs without trouble since I was four. Admittedly, I was a slow starter, but I've definitely perfected the art since then."

"Don't be smart, Lorelai." Emily's voice raised a few decibels. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Humph!" Lorelai slouched down in her seat, a cardinal sin for any young lady. "I think I'm finished here," she gestured towards her barely touched plate. "May I be excused?"

"What about your dessert, Lorelai?" Richard asked her innocently, clearly unaware of the extent of the tension in the room.

"I'm not hungry," she replied, pushing her chair back noisily.

Emily winced at the sound, and Lorelai stormed up the stairs, and flopped onto her bed. She immediately reached over to the bottom drawer of her bedside table, and pulled out a handful of Tootsie Rolls. She moaned as she took the first bite, feeling the chocolate melt in her mouth.

"God, I needed that," she murmured.

* * *

Saturday morning, and Lorelai had been standing in front of the mirror struggling with the zipper on her dress for a good twenty minutes, when there was another knock at the door.

"Yeah?" she called, frustrated.

"Lorelai, the photographer needs you downstairs," Emily chirped through the closed door.

"I'll be there in a sec," Lorelai replied, trying her hardest to sound casual.

Emily's voice became a little angrier. "He needs you now, not in a sec."

"Okay," Lorelai answered, becoming more frustrated by the second.

"I don't hear you walking toward the door," she heard her mother call.

"Mom, please." Lorelai wiggled around a bit more in the dress, to no avail.

The handle of the door turned. "I'm coming in," Emily told her in no uncertain terms.

"No," Lorelai sighed, knowing that it wouldn't matter what she said. Her mother entered the room, babbling.

"I don't have time for your attitude, young lady. This man is being paid by the hour." She paused when she saw her daughter. "Why aren't you dressed?"

"I just… I think the zipper's too new or stiff or something," Lorelai told her, pulling on the offending zipper again.

Emily sighed. "Turn around. I'll do it." She too, pulled on the zipper, but it wouldn't budge. "Oh my God."

Lorelai heard the veiled panic in Emily's voice. "What?" she asked her mother.

Emily seemed outraged. "It's not the zipper – it's the dress. It's too small."

Lorelai wrinkled her forehead and looked at herself in the mirror. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Of course I'm sure," Emily retorted, exasperated. "It's too small. How can it be too small? We had a fitting three months ago. Have you gained weight?"

"No," Lorelai replied quickly, but stood studying her figure in the mirror.

"Hold your breath," Emily commanded.

"I am," Lorelai sighed, trying to pull her stomach in as far as she could.

"Hold your breath!" Emily cried again.

"I am!" Lorelai yelled back at her.

Emily tried again to pull the zipper up, but failed miserably. "The only thing I can think of is the dressmaker must've written the measurements down wrong." She looked her daughter up and down. "Well, what are we supposed to do now? I certainly can't take a picture of you like that."

Lorelai looked at her feet. "Sorry," she muttered, although she wasn't sure what she had to be sorry about.

"I'll just have to have him come back next week. And I'm going to call that woman at the dress shop and give her a piece of my mind. My God, is everyone in the world completely incompetent? Put on your sweats and run around the block. You're gonna fit into the next dress no matter what." Emily stormed out of the room, yelling at the maid to follow her as she descended the stairs.

Lorelai pulled the dress off, and let it fall to the floor. She studied her reflection carefully. Yes, her bra was pretty tight. Her boobs had definitely gotten bigger. But she was fifteen – surely the dressmaker had taken the fact she could still be growing into consideration. She ran her hands down her stomach, and frowned as she felt that is wasn't as flat as it used to be.

"God, I'm getting the Freshman Fifteen while I'm still in high school," she muttered, and turned to stand side-on to the mirror.

There was a slight bump on her stomach. She laughed at herself. "Maybe all that junk is finally catching up with me. At the rate I'm going, I'm going to start looking like I'm preg…." She stopped suddenly, and looked back at her reflection, fear flashing across her face.

When she saw the look in the mirror, she laughed. "No, don't be stupid. I couldn't be." Still wearing just her underwear, she flopped down on the floor and started frantically doing sit-ups.

Once she got to fifty sit-ups, she collapsed on the floor in exhaustion. She pulled a pair of jeans on, only now noticing how snug they were. As she opened her dresser to choose a t-shirt, she noticed her day-planner sitting on the top of the dresser. She pulled a random t-shirt over her head, not stopping to see which one it was, and grabbed the planner. She sat on her bed, and opened it to today's date. She slowly flipped backwards through the pages, hoping that something would jump out at her to make her remember when her last period had been. For every event that was scribbled in the diary, she tried to think whether she'd had it then or not. For weeks and weeks, the answer was always no.

Then she saw a scribble: 'NYE party at O'Dowd's', for December 31st. "Yes!" she cried, thankful that Alzheimer's hadn't quite set in. She remembered, because she and Christopher had found an empty bedroom to fool around in. He had tried to get his hand up her skirt, but she had had to stop him very firmly.

"Okay. Calm down. How long ago was that?" she asked herself.

She flipped through the pages, counting the weeks.

Flip, flip, flip, flip…. As each page was turned, she felt the hollow ball in her stomach growing bigger.

"Twelve weeks," she whispered, when she finally made it back to today's date. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…." She paced around the room. From reading lots of magazines, she knew that teenagers weren't always regular, but twelve weeks was too long. She desperately racked her brain, trying to imagine a more recent time than New Year's.

She walked into her bathroom, and opened the cabinet. She finally found an almost full box of tampons in the very back of the cupboard, confirming to her that they hadn't been used for a while.

She sat on the bathroom floor, and put her head in her hands. "Shit," she groaned into her hands. As she sat there, completely still, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She needed to get out. She jumped up, grabbed her coat and was out the door before she could change her mind. Just as she was leaving the house, Emily walked through the foyer.

"Lorelai," she gasped, startled. "We were just about to have some lunch. Where are you going?"

"I'm going for a walk," Lorelai snapped. "You're the one who said I needed the exercise."

"Really, Lorelai. It doesn't have to be right this second."

Lorelai didn't answer. She just slammed the door on her way out.

* * *

Lorelai had been wandering the neighborhood for 45 minutes, not paying attention to where she was going, when she suddenly looked up. She noticed that she was outside Christopher's house. She stared up at it for a full minute, before walking up the driveway. Instead of going to the front door, however, she snuck around to the side of the house, and found the tree that led to Christopher's bedroom. After slipping a few times, she made it to his window. She peered in, and saw him lying on the floor reading a magazine.

She sighed and tapped on the glass softly. Chris looked up, and was startled when he saw her there, framed by his drapes.

"Hey, Lor," he grinned as he helped her in. "What? The front door wasn't working?"

She shrugged, and sat down gingerly on the edge of his bed.

He sat down next to her, and put his hand on her thigh, looking at her questioningly to check that the gesture was okay.

'Tell him, tell him. You have to do it sooner or later', she kept thinking. But when she looked at his face, so sweet and caring, she chickened out.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Christopher asked her, a concerned look on his face. "You look like you just found out they were cancelling Dynasty."

"Oh… nothing," she lied, putting the well-practiced fake smile on her face. "I just wanted to see you is all."

"Can't argue with that logic," Chris smiled, and leaned in to kiss her.

Lorelai pushed him back on the bed, and kissed him harder.

'No point in getting him involved until it's definite', she thought as she intensified their making out.

After several minutes, she sat up, and pulled her t-shirt over her head, and reached for his belt buckle.

Christopher looked at her. "You sure about this?" he asked seeing the frantic look in her eyes.

She kissed him forcefully, and then whispered into his ear. "Yes. Don't want to think about anything. Too much thinking today. Thinking is bad."

Lorelai knew that Chris wouldn't argue – what sixteen-year-old boy would?

"Okay. No more thinking," he agreed as he pulled his own shirt off.

* * *

As they dressed, Christopher watched Lorelai, concerned. "Okay. Not that I'm not happy, but why'd you change your mind? And you said you didn't want to think. What's going on? Is something wrong?"

She turned away from him. "Nothing's wrong. I just changed my mind is all."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "You would tell me if something was bothering you, right?"

"Uh huh," she mumbled. "Listen, I have to go. Mom will be wondering where I went without telling her."

"Yeah, sure," he agreed.

Lorelai kissed him quickly on the lips before climbing back out the window and walking home in a daze.

* * *

As soon as school finished on Monday morning, Lorelai ran out of class to the car waiting for her. She acknowledged the driver quickly and stared out the window the whole ride home, wishing that this day would be over. Saturday night she had barely slept a wink worrying about what she was going to have to do. She was distracted all through the rehearsal on Sunday, and no amount of coffee would stop her making mistake after mistake, causing her mother to glare at her more and more frequently.

She got changed out of her uniform, and told her mother that she was going to the library. As soon as she got to the end of her street however, she didn't turn towards the library. She turned in the opposite direction and walked the block and a half to the bus stop. She took a bus to the other side of Hartford, knowing that nobody there would recognize her, and found a pharmacy reasonably quickly. She paced up and down the sidewalk outside the pharmacy for a few minutes before she took a deep breath.

"You can do this. It's easy. Just go in," she said to herself, resulting in a few sidelong glances from passers-by. She paused for a few more seconds before opening the door and slinking inside the shop. She quickly glanced around until she found the 'girlie' section. Without hesitating, she picked up the first pregnancy test she saw, and took it to the counter. As the clerk rung the purchase up, she was tapping her foot in impatience, and glancing around the store. But she still noticed the disapproving look the woman behind the counter gave her when she saw how young the customer was. As the woman passed Lorelai her change, she shook her head pityingly. Lorelai snatched up the money and the paper bag, and left the store as fast as she could.

As she stood at the bus stop, Lorelai pulled her coat around her as tightly as she could. For the first time that afternoon, she was feeling the cold. The adrenaline was gone, and the fear she had felt on Saturday had taken the opportunity to creep back in. She shivered uncontrollably, and felt a single tear slide down her cheek. Her life was tumbling out of control, and she had never felt more alone.

Lorelai sat alone in her bedroom, watching the clock. She couldn't remember a longer three minutes in her life. The seconds seem to last for minutes; the minutes for hours. After an eternity, the clock ticked over to 4:27. She took a deep breath and walked to where she had placed the test in her bathroom. She read the instructions one more time, just to be sure. Yes, if there was a pink line on it, she was pregnant. Never before in her life had anything pink been a bad thing.

She picked up the stick and looked at it.

"Huh. Figures," she said out loud, and wrapped the test in toilet paper, placing it in the trash.

She walked over to the phone, not feeling anything, and dialed the familiar number.

"Chris?... Can you come over?"


	5. Announcments

*****Announcements*****

Lorelai had been sitting in silence, staring at her Vassar brochure for ten minutes when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she called, without a trace of emotion in her voice.

Christopher opened the door. "Hey," he said as he entered the room. "Saw your Mom downstairs. She said dinner would be in half an hour."

Lorelai nodded slowly. "Sit," she commanded, without looking at him.

He sat next to her, and when she still wouldn't look at him, he took hold of her chin and turned her face directly towards him. "Lor – what's wrong? Tell me."

"I… I…. I'm… pregnant," she told him in little more than a whisper. Christopher's hand holding her face went limp and dropped to his lap. Lorelai watched as his face turned from the concerned boyfriend who had walked into the room a minute earlier to a terrified little boy.

"But…. Thought….. First time….. can't….. what….?" Christopher stuttered.

Lorelai knew what he was trying to say, and frowned at him. "That's just an old wives tale. Obviously." She gestured to her stomach as if to prove her point.

Christopher sat staring at his hands for a long time, and every so often would mumble single words – "How?… unfair….. no…. you…."

Lorelai slid down so that she was sitting on the floor, and wouldn't have to see the anguish in his face. "So give it a couple of days, and you'll be about where I am," she told him.

They sat in silence for several minutes before Christopher began to talk again. "So… I guess that explains the rumor that's going around that you have an eating disorder."

"Yip… no eating disorder, no 'flu, no hangovers. Looks like all those times were just morning sickness."

She reached over and picked up her Biology textbook and flicked through until she found the chapter on Human Reproduction. Christopher slid off the bed to join her on the floor. "Guess I should actually read this chapter now", she joked. She pointed to her stomach. "Do you think this will count as extra credit?" She tried to laugh, but it didn't come out right, and she stopped. They both scanned the page on the textbook before turning the page. There, they were confronted with a diagram showing the development of a baby during pregnancy.

Lorelai pointed to one of the pictures. "That's me right now," she told him. Staring at the picture of the fetus, seeing how it looked like an actual baby, not just a blob like she expected, made it seem scarily real.

Christopher's head wouldn't stop moving. He kept looking from the picture in the book to Lorelai's sweater-covered stomach, over and over. "I… you… didn't look fat the other day…" he wondered out loud.

She stood up, and took her sweater off, exposing her belly. "Here." She pointed out where there was the tiny bump she had found on the weekend. Christopher just stared at her, his mouth falling open.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Lorelai quickly pulled her sweater back on. "Miss Gilmore," Arletta called through the door. "Dinner is about to be served."

Lorelai straightened her clothes. "I'll be down in a minute," she replied.

Christopher stood up. "Have you told your parents?" he whispered to her, just in case the maid was still standing at the door.

"No," she whispered back. "I need to think about it myself first before Emily blows up at me and sends me off to Switzerland or something." Both their faces fell at the thought that this wasn't a joke – being sent away was a real possibility.

They walked to the front door in silence. The fact that he hadn't touched her at all since she had told him the news wasn't lost on Lorelai. As Christopher stepped over the threshold, he turned back to her. "Talk to you tomorrow?" She nodded at him.

"Do you want me to be there when you tell them," he asked quietly, glancing around to make sure nobody was near.

She shook her head. "I can do it myself."

Lorelai saw the look of absolute relief that flooded Christopher's face before he turned and walked away. 'Yes. I can do it myself,' she thought. The only thing she could think about was that look on his face. His friendly, supportive demeanor from the past half an hour was forgotten, and all she remembered was his relief at not having to tell her parents.

* * *

Lorelai and Christopher stood in a corner of The Rose Room. Lorelai Victoria Gilmore had just been officially presented to society, and now there was cake. There was also dancing and mingling, and a buffet, but all Lorelai wanted right now was the cake.

"Mmmm, this cake is amazing!" Lorelai moaned.

Christopher raised his eyebrows at her. "Uh, would you and the cake like to get a room or something?"

She smiled at him. "You, my friend, can only imagine what I'd like to do to this cake."

He laughed at her.

She sighed. "I think I'm going to tell my parents tonight," she told him, keeping her eyes on the cake.

"Oh, wow. Okay." Christopher, also kept his eyes firmly on his piece of cake, almost like it had some sort of hypnotic power.

"Well, seeing myself in this dress – even after taking it out a bit last weekend, it's still a bit tight," she explained to him. "I can't just wear baggy clothes for the next six months. So, I thought I better tell them before they work it out themselves."

"It might be easier just to let them figure it out. Maybe tell them when you go into labor…" Christopher suggested.

"It's very tempting, believe me." She looked at him. "Um…. So if I tell them tonight….. I thought… maybe….. you should tell your parents tonight too."

Christopher looked up at her suddenly, startled by her suggestion. "Uh…. But…. Is that such a good idea?"

"Well I thought it would be better coming from you than from my father when he turns up on your doorstep to beat the crap out of you."

The realization of what he was in for swept over Christopher. "Oh shit. I'm not going to see my 17th birthday, am I?"

"Hey. My parents are going to kill me first, so I'm not even going to make it to my 16th. I was so close, as well," she countered.

Christopher laughed. "Well, they're definitely not going to believe the whole 'Sweet Sixteen and never been kissed' thing, now, are they?"

"So we both tell our parents when we get home tonight." Lorelai stuck her hand out. "Deal?"

Hesitantly, Christopher reached out and shook her hand. "Deal."

* * *

Lorelai had sat her parents down and broken the news to them straight after the ball finished. She had braced herself for a lot of yelling and threats, so when she was met with absolute silence, she didn't know what to do with it. After sitting in silence for around ten minutes, she had slowly stood, and retired to her bedroom. From her hideaway, she had heard them go about their evening as if nothing had happened. When she went down to the kitchen for some coffee, she had passed both Richard and Emily on her way, and neither had even deigned to look at her.

Around 9pm, she was standing on her balcony, wrapped in a light blanket, enjoying the unusually pleasant spring air, when she saw a car pull into the driveway. She gasped as she saw Christopher and his parents emerge from the vehicle. Francine looked like she was crying. As she heard the doorbell ring, she ran down the stairs. She positioned herself near the door of the living room, where she could see the whole foyer.

Emily opened the door just as Richard wandered out of his study. Straub stormed into the house without an invitation. "I believe we need to talk," he told Richard and Emily. He saw Lorelai peering around the corner, and glared at her. He turned to Christopher, who had been hanging back. "Leave us," he told his son.

"So… I guess you told them," Lorelai whispered to Christopher as they climbed the stairs, settling themselves halfway up so they could eavesdrop.

Emily sent the maid to get some water for Francine, who was still sobbing.

"How did your parents take it?" Christopher whispered to Lorelai.

"Uh… well they haven't said a word to me all night," she told him, shrugging.

They listened briefly to their parents' bickering.

"God, your Mom is more upset than both my parents put together," Lorelai commented.

"Well, of course," Christopher told her grinning. "Her perfect baby boy was brazenly seduced by some skeezy harlot."

Lorelai punched his arm playfully. "Yeah, that's what happened. Do you think we should go down there and set them straight? Give them all the sordid details about our sex life?" she suggested.

Down in the living room, Richard started to yell about how they should get married, and Christopher would go and work at the insurance company. Lorelai started to frown.

She sighed. "I know we're all upset here folks, but maybe we should ask the kids what they think. Lorelai, Christopher, anything to add here?"

Christopher nudged her. "Quiet. They'll hear you."

Lorelai rolled her eyes, and gestured towards the noise coming from downstairs. "Not likely." She moved around slightly. "I don't know how much longer I can just sit here like this."

Christopher put a calming hand on her. "It's okay, let them talk," he told her.

Lorelai subtly looked at his hand, aware that he was touching her. "They're talking about us," she protested.

"They're trying to figure out what to do."

"What to do with our lives – our lives!" she hissed at him. "Yours and mine and… its'." She gestured towards her belly.

"We're gonna need their help."

Lorelai pouted. "We can take care of ourselves."

"How?" Christopher asked her.

She huffed. "We'll figure it out," she told him firmly.

Christopher made a slight gesture towards the living room. "It's okay. It sounds okay."

Lorelai narrowed her eyes at him. "What sounds okay?"

Christopher didn't look at her directly. "You know – working for your dad, living here. It sounds okay."

Lorelai widened her eyes, and her mouth dropped open. "Chris, no! What about Europe? What about sleeping on a bench in Paris?"

Christopher was being very diplomatic. "We can't do that now. I have to get a job."

"No!" Lorelai protested.

"I have to make money," Christopher said logically.

"No!" Lorelai repeated.

"It's okay, really."

Lorelia looked at the ceiling. She took a deep breath and stood up. She knew what she had to do. Looking down on him, she stared directly into his eyes. "I can't go to Europe, but you still can. You can keep going to school. You can graduate. You can go to college." She felt tears starting to sting her eyes, knowing that as much as she didn't want to say this, it was necessary.

She was very quiet. "I may have ruined my life, but there's no point in ruining yours too. This is my problem." She turned around, ran to her room, and threw herself on her bed, shaking and crying uncontrollably. It was one of the hardest, most selfless things she had ever done, but she cared too much about Christopher to have him ruin his life for her.


	6. One Step at a Time

*****One step at a time*****

_April_

"For God's sake, Lorelai," Emily shouted. "You're three months pregnant, and you haven't been to see a doctor yet."

"Mom, I've only known for two weeks. I will go, okay?" Lorelai yelled back.

"I've made you an appointment with Dr Kellerman for tomorrow after school," Emily told her gruffly, lowering her voice just slightly.

Lorelai seemed much more interested in reading an interview with Matt Dillon in her Tiger Beat magazine. "Who?" she asked, without glancing up.

Emily sighed. "Dr Kellerman. You remember him. He was here for our Fourth of July party last year. He bought you a rocking horse for your third birthday."

Lorelai shrugged. "Don't remember him. I'll be sure to thank him for the rocking horse while he's giving me a physical, though." She rolled her eyes and went back to her magazine.

"You need to take this seriously, Lorelai," Emily shouted, pulling the magazine away from her daughter. "You're pregnant. This isn't a game."

Lorelai feigned shock. "Really? I'm pregnant? Oh my God! That is brand new information." She snatched the magazine back from her mother, and put her socked feet up on the ottoman.

Emily huffed. "You had better be here and ready to go tomorrow at 3:45, my girl…." She stormed out of the room.

Lorelai heard her father come out of his office. "What's all the racket?" he asked Emily as she passed him.

"That girl is going to be the death of me," Emily told him exasperated.

Lorelai giggled to herself, safe back in the living room. "Well, looks like my work here is done."

* * *

Lorelai sat on the edge of the examining table in the doctor's office, swinging her legs, and chewing on some strawberry Hubba Bubba. She had had another week to comprehend what was going to happen to her, and it didn't seem quite so scary anymore. She was reluctantly starting to accept her fate, and had decided that the best thing was to just take one day at a time, without thinking about the big stuff. 'Having a baby' seemed too overwhelming to deal with, but 'Going to see the doctor', or 'Shopping for some bigger clothes' were the types of little things that she could handle one at a time. And those were the two things she was going to accomplish today.

Along with her acceptance, her sense of humor had also returned, much to her mother's disgust. Emily's face was priceless when Lorelai made some joke about being pregnant, which just spurred her on to make another joke.

She had just managed to blow a huge bubble, one to be really proud of, when the door opened, startling her, and causing the bubble to burst all over her face.

Dr Kellerman raised his eyebrows at her as she pulled the bubblegum off her cheeks, and returned it to her mouth.

"Lorelai, nice to see you again," he said as he sat behind his desk. "These may not be the best circumstances, admittedly." He blushed slightly, and gave her that look. It was the same look that the woman in the pharmacy had. It was the same look that Francine had given her when she walked into the Gilmore's house. Lorelai still hadn't exactly deciphered it yet, but it was somewhere between 'You poor, silly girl' and 'Quick ma, get the chil'en inside. The town bike is here'. In some ways, Lorelai preferred the idea of people thinking she was a slut, than feeling sorry for her. She would rather they hated her, than tried to 'make it all better'.

Lorelai shrugged.

"Of course, we will treat this situation with the utmost confidentiality. Your mother was quite clear about that," he told her gently.

"Of course she was. We wouldn't want her precious reputation spoiled." She rolled her eyes.

Dr Kellerman gave her a physical examination, and took some blood before sitting back down and gesturing to Lorelai to sit opposite him.

"So, looks like you're right. You're about three months pregnant. Now we need to look at your options," he told her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "My… options?"

"Well, whether you want to keep it…." he began.

Lorelai clenched her jaw. "That is not a conversation I'm going to participate in," she told him, unwavering. "I'll keep it." She placed her hands on her ever so slightly swollen abdomen. "We'll be fine." She slouched down in her seat.

"I just don't think you realize how this is going to affect you," he ventured. "You will need all the help you can get."

Lorelai just looked at him sternly.

He sighed. "Well, we'll need to schedule you in for another appointment in a month's time. In the meantime, do you have any questions?"

She thought for a minute. "Is it going to hurt?" she asked quietly.

"Giving birth?" he asked. She gave a small nod and he laughed. "From what I understand, it hurts so much you'll want to kill yourself, or someone close by."

"So… having my mother next to me might not be the worst thing in the world?" Her eyes glittered.

He shook his head in amusement. He turned back to his desk, and wrote something down, signing it before handing it to her. "Here's a note for the school. No more gym class, okay?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Because I always do so much during gym."

"No seafood. No uncooked meat. No alcohol, but you shouldn't be drinking anyway…"

She laughed. "And how did you think I ended up in this situation in the first place? By spending too much time at church saying confession for every drop that passed my lips?"

"No more," he reiterated.

"Yeah, well, my Mom's not going to let me out of her sight now, so I think we're good on that count. Carrie Nation would be proud of me."

Dr Kellerman stood. "Right, then. I'll see you back here in a month. If you have any problems, call."

"Cool." She thrust her Medical Certificate into her purse and walked out into the waiting room where Emily was sitting patiently.

"Are you done?" Emily asked primly.

"Yip. Let's go shopping."

* * *

As they pulled into the parking lot of the mall, Lorelai could see Christopher standing outside awkwardly. As Lorelai got out of the car, Emily turned to her.

"The mall will be closing at six, so I will meet you back here then. Don't be late," Emily told her. "And for God's sake, don't get into any trouble." She sighed as Lorelai slammed the door closed.

"Hey," she said softly as she walked towards Christopher. Apart from at school they hadn't really seen each other since she had told him she didn't need him. "Thanks for coming. I really didn't want to explain to any of my other friends why this shopping trip was necessary. Not just yet."

He nodded slowly. "I get it, and it's fine." They walked through the big double doors in silence.

"How was the thing with the doctor?" he asked her hesitantly.

She shrugged. "Yeah everything was fine. No biggie." She turned as if by habit, and started to walk into her favorite store. She glanced around for a second before realizing. "Uh. No. Nothing for me in there." She looked longingly at the fabulous form-fitting jeans in the window before heading towards the department store.

They were flicking through a rack of loose fitting jeans, and it wasn't going well. "Yuck… yuck… gross… gross…. Urgh! Double gross!" She looked down at the fashionable high-waisted jeans she was currently bursting out of.

"Maybe I could just cut the waist off these ones, so they sit below my stomach," she suggested. "I could start a new trend – hip jeans or something." She chuckled at the thought of jeans that barely covered her butt. "Or maybe not." She reluctantly selected a pair of elastic waist jeans off the rack, and walked over to the t-shirt section.

"Tank tops will be good, right?" she asked Christopher.

He looked up as if distracted. "Hmmm?.... Oh yeah. They'll stretch real good. You've got a whole summer to get through."

She selected several tops in both one- and two- sizes too big, and took everything to the changing rooms. She emerged with an unusual look on her face.

"Well nothing fits, but unfortunately it will in a month or so. If I wear a belt with the jeans for now, they'll be fine until I fill them out properly." She took her purchases to the counter and charged them to Richard's credit card.

As they walked out of the store, Christopher grabbed her hand and pulled her to the wall. He was quiet. "Why didn't you ask me to come to see the doctor with you?" he asked her, looking at the ground.

Lorelai looked at him curiously. "Did you really want to go?" she asked him. He shrugged. "Because that was something I really didn't want you to see. _I _could barely stand being there, and it's my body."

Lorelai could see that Christopher was struggling to make himself understood. "It's just… I heard what you said. I should stay at school and all that. But…. Shouldn't I still be involved? I mean… you're still my girlfriend, right?" The look on his face belied the fact that he was hiding something. Lorelai had seen that look somewhere before, but she couldn't quite put her finger on where.

"Uh… yeah, of course I am," she replied. She took his hand. "We fucked up. The odds of this happening where incredibly slim, but we managed to defy them. We should go out and buy lottery tickets. Yes, I want you to be involved, to be involved in my life and the baby's life – to be my boyfriend. But your mom is right. You shouldn't have to give up everything they have planned for you – your perfect life. I have no choice about quitting school and stuff, but you do. I am not going to put any pressure on you, okay?"

"Uh huh," he grunted.

"Just one step at a time, okay?" she said, rubbing his arm.

He looked at what she was doing, and chuckled. "Shouldn't I be the one soothing you? Not the other way around."

"Meh! I've cried enough, and thought enough in the last two weeks. I'm all out," she told him.

They started walking towards the exit again, and Christopher draped his arm over her shoulders. "So, you're my girlfriend first and foremost, and pregnant second," he mused.

"Yip," she agreed. "See, not that much has changed. The pregnant thing is my thing. The relationship is for both of us to contend with. We can still be how we were before."

He noticeably hesitated, and then nodded. "Yeah, just the same."

Lorelai sat in her bedroom, staring at a photo of her and Christopher, taken before the Winter Dance last year. The looks on their faces were seemed so happy. But as she looked at the picture all she could think about was the look he had given her this afternoon. It was similar to what she had seen in his eyes when he had said he would move in with her, and take a job with her father.

It was really bothering her, trying to find out where she had seen the look before, who she had seen it on. Now she had two sets of expressions to look out for – one on the judging public, and one on Christopher.


	7. In the Schoolyard

*****In the Schoolyard*****

Lorelai walked across the gym, the footsteps of her leather school shoes echoing loudly around the near empty hall. She handed the note to her teacher, Ms Langdon, and waited while she read it. Ms Langdon looked her up and down.

"Fine," the teacher barked, shaking her head with the "silly girl" expression. "Sit in the bleachers today. I'll get you transferred to a study hall class for tomorrow."

Lorelai nodded meekly and wandered over to the tiered seating. She sat down, chin in her hands, and watched as her classmates straggled out of the locker room, ready for yet another boring game of volleyball. After a few minutes, she swivelled herself around on the seat, crossing her legs in front of her, and using the next tier of seats as a table, pulled out a bottle of purple nail polish, and got to work at beautifying her hands.

She had just finished the second coat when Ms Langdon sent the girls back to the locker room. Lorelai watched as they left, and her friend Trish wandered over to where she was lounging on the hard seating.

"What's up with you?" Trish asked.

Lorelai shrugged. "Oh, you know... girl stuff." It wasn't a complete lie, at least.

Trish wrinkled her brow. "And?"

Lorelai feigned ignorance. "And what?" she asked, keeping the innocent look on her face.

"Langdon never lets us use that excuse. There must be more. You've been acting weird for weeks now."

"Seriously. Just girl stuff," Lorelai insisted, looking at her nails carefully.

Trish looked at her suspiciously. "Okay.... fine. Don't tell me then." She stomped off towards the locker room.

* * *

It was fifth period – straight after lunch – when Lorelai knocked quietly on Principal Beckett's door.

"Come in," the Principal bellowed from his lair.

She pushed the door open hesitantly. "Uh... you wanted to see me?" she ventured, not exactly sure how to act in these circumstances.

"Miss Gilmore, sit," he commanded, gesturing towards one of the vacant chairs opposite him.

She obeyed, looking at the menacing figure with wide eyes.

"Ms Langdon has informed me of your situation, Miss Gilmore," he began.

Lorelai nodded. She had figured that it wouldn't take long.

"Obviously, your education, and your future at Deerfield needs to be discussed." He consulted some papers on his desk, which she presumed was her permanent record. "When are you due?" he asked.

Lorelai looked at her lap. "The middle of October," she told him.

"Right," he noted something down, and looked up at the small year planner sitting on his desk. "So there wouldn't be much point in you returning for the fall semester."

She sighed. "Probably not. I definitely want to finish this semester though. That is, unless you're going to kick me out before then."

"No, of course not," Principal Beckett reassured her. "We want all of our students, regardless of their... situation... to leave Deerfield with the best education possible." He flipped through some of the papers. "You're a smart girl, Miss Gilmore. I see you are already taking AP English."

She nodded.

"Legally you are supposed to stay at school until you are 18, so unless you plan to come back after it's born, or get a tutor, then you need to apply to the state for a waiver." Lorelai nodded slowly. "I would suggest that you enrol for summer school, and take some 11th Grade classes – English and Math mainly. I'd like for you to have done as much of the 11th Grade coursework as you can before having to leave us. I can arrange for a teacher to tutor you full time over summer if that is what you would like. It would be possible to get some part time tutoring in the fall also, if you feel up to it."

Lorelai looked at him in shock. He was going out of his way to help her. She had thought that she would be kicked out of school for being a bad influence on the other kids. Instead, he was encouraging her. It was a nice feeling.

Principal Beckett gave her the summer school information and sent her away. As she walked out of his office, she saw Christopher sitting outside. Looking at him more closely, she saw he was sporting a black eye, and his shirt had been ripped.

She gave him confused look. "What on earth happened to you?" she asked him.

He grunted. "Nothing. Got in a fight is all." He brushed her off when she tried to touch him. "I'll just talk to you later, okay?" He looked angry, and it seemed to be directed at her, so she slunk away quietly.

* * *

True to his word, Christopher called her that night.

"Hey – how are you? What happened?" she asked him, her voice anxious.

"Pft." He let his breath out. "Are you saying you haven't heard?"

"No. Nobody really talked to me this afternoon. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but it felt like people were whispering about me behind my back – you know, watching me as I walk past, giggling, all of sudden it goes quiet when I walk in the room...."

"Yip," he said. "There's a reason for that."

She was confused. "Chris? What's happened?"

He sighed. "Well.... it seems that the teachers at our school are quite fond of the gossip. One of the junior girls was walking past the teacher's lounge at lunch, and overheard Langdon telling the other teachers that you were pregnant. Having a good old chat about it, seems."

"Idiots," Lorelai groaned.

"So, word spread pretty quickly. First I hear of it is when James Corbett comes up to me, patting me on the back, congratulating me for 'hitting that'." She could almost hear him doing the air quotes through the phone. "Then... you know Brendon Wyatt?"

"Uh huh." She uncharacteristically had become monosyllabic; stunned by the story Chris was telling her. She started to play with a loose thread on her leggings.

"Well, Brendon starts getting all stupid, saying how you were just a stupid little whore, and I should run a mile, because really, how did I know that it was mine and….. he was just being really horrible about you, Lor…."

"Oh," she got in.

"So I hit him. Turned into an all-out brawl in the corridor. His mates jumped in to help him, but I managed to hold my own, I was so wild…." He sighed. "Next thing, it's all being broken up by some teachers, and my parents are being called to talk to Beckett. And you know my dad, let's just say that he wasn't exactly thrilled to be called out of an important meeting to be told that his son is going to be expelled…"

Lorelai let out a gasp. "Shut. Up."

"Mom's been upstairs 'self-medicating' with a couple of bottles of gin…"

"Chris, wait… did you just say you got expelled?" she asked him, trying to get her head around it.

He sighed. "Yip."

"…You got kicked out of school for trying to defend me?"

"Yip."

"Holy crap, I'm so sorry Chris. You shouldn't be being punished like this. It's not fair!" She paused to think. "But Principal Beckett was so understanding just a few minutes earlier… he was trying to find a plan for my schooling and stuff. What changed?"

Chris thought for a minute. "He said he understood the extenuating circumstances, his words, not mine, but he couldn't make an exception. The school has a no-tolerance policy on violence, and like a million kids saw me throw the first punch. So I'm out. Brendon gets to stay, but he's suspended for a week."

"This sucks."

"You said it, sister. Dad's in his office right now, pulling favors to get me enrolled in Groton."

Lorelai stared at the ceiling, trying to force down her anger. "So, I have to face the hordes alone tomorrow, and until the summer." She heard what she had just said. "Oh wait, that was selfish. I'm sorry for getting you in this mess."

"Yeah, well. Whatever. I was there too." He sounded just a tad angry. "Now you know the story. Call me tomorrow, and tell me how you handled school, 'kay?"

"Sure." She hung up the phone, and continued staring at the ceiling. This was just getting worse. 'Maybe I am a bad influence on him,' she thought. All she could think about for the rest of the night was how bad it was going to be at school the next day. Everybody knew about the baby by now, and she wouldn't have Christopher there to protect her. She could already see the smirking faces coming from the boys, and hear the bitchy comments that would be coming from the girls. And as popular as she had been within their social circle a few weeks ago… this would make her a pariah.


	8. Happy Birthday to Me

*****Happy Birthday to Me*****

It had been a week and a half since Christopher had been asked not to come back to Deerfield. She had spoken to him briefly the day after, relating to him the mortification that had been her day of snide comments and dirty looks. Even the teachers hadn't been able to hide their contempt, speaking to her shortly, and only when necessary.

In the cafeteria, she had walked over to her usual table out of habit, only to see her so-called friends quickly move their belongings so there wouldn't be room for her to sit. All eyes had followed her as she moved slowly through the tables to find an empty one in the corner. She sat, and ate as fast as humanly possible, before escaping to the third floor bathroom – only used by loners and the occasional smoker. As she slumped to the ground in the far cubicle, willing herself not to cry, it had really sunk in that this was what it was going to be like from now on.

Christopher made few comments as she had relayed her day to him, over a week ago now. He hadn't called her since. She was hoping that it was only because he was grounded, and not because he didn't want to talk to her.

Lorelai stared blankly at her closet, trying to pick a dress that would hide her ever-expanding figure. While she hadn't gotten noticeably bigger yet, anything tight was out of the question. Tonight was the night of her parent's annual Easter Party. It was a staple of the Gilmore calendar – almost as important as their two-weeks-early Christmas Party. Lorelai had always hated going to these things, but tonight, she had nowhere else to be, so had no reason to fight it. She knew that most of the kids from her school were going to a party being thrown by a senior, but she also knew that she wasn't welcome. Once the life of the party, now not able to pass through the sacred doors.

Eventually, she picked an A-line dress which was loose enough around her abdomen, while still being tight around her chest, emphasizing her increased cleavage. While the dress wasn't at all in fashion, she knew the Hayden's were going to be attending the party, and she still wanted to look good for Christopher.

She had just finished zipping the dress up, and was searching through the closet for shoes that matched, when there was a knock on the door. She toppled to the ground at the interruption, and sat looking at the door as her mother waltzed in, dressed to the nines.

"You do remember that it is our Easter Party tonight, Lorelai," her mother asked.

Lorelai smirked. "Of course." Because it would have been so easy to ignore all the decorating and extra cleaning that had been going on in the past few days.

"Well, I will send Tonya up with some dinner for you in a few hours. If there is anything else you need, call down to the kitchen." She turned abruptly, and left. Lorelai was left staring after her, eyes bulging, and mouth slack-jawed. She was being banished. Uninvited to a party in her own house, taking place directly below her. She got an idea of what Rapunzel must have felt like – locked away in her room.

She had presumed that her parents were ashamed of her. She hadn't thought they would go to such lengths, however.

She lay back on the floor, staring at the ceiling, and poked gently at her stomach.

"Well little baby," she began. This was the first time she had thought about the thing growing inside her as a person – and definitely the first time she had talked to it. She was a bit nervous about it. "I guess you know who I am – I'm your mommy. It looks like we're gonna have to get to know each other pretty well, huh? I mean, let's face it – we're not exactly anyone's favorite people, so it's looking like it's just you and me against the world. So… let's take a census. My parents, sure, are being civil to us. I'm their only kid, they kind of have to. Mom – you'll have heard her, she yells a lot – is pretty much just trying to control our lives, like she usually does. Dad – well he's spending more and more time at the office, so he's not too much of a problem. Except that now, when he looks at me, I can't see that little light that used to be there. I've seen the way he sort of shakes his head when he thinks I'm not looking – like he washes his hands of me."

She paused for a minute, and sighed.

"Christopher – he's your dad – I don't know what's going on with him. He said that he wants to get married, and look after us…. No that's not quite right." She shook her head. "He didn't say he WANTS to do all that stuff. He said that he will. I said he didn't have to do it, and he's sorta been drifting away since then. I see him less and less, he doesn't call every night like he used to do…. Hey baby? I'll let you in on a secret. You know when I told your daddy that we didn't need him? That you were my problem, not his? I'm sure you remember – it was a pretty emotional day for us. I didn't want to say all that stuff to him. I'm scared out of my mind, and I want him to be here to help us, even if it is just for moral support. But if he gave up college and Europe and all that other fun stuff, he'd start to resent us. He'd think we were holding him back. I know you might not get this, but I had to give him an out. I just hope he stays with us."

She laid her hands carefully on her stomach, and began slowly rubbing, trying to soothe both their fears away.

"Chris' parents – well they wanted me to get rid of you, so I can't see them being any help. To be honest, I don't like them much, anyway. All my other friends don't seem to want to know me anymore, so I guess they're out too."

She stood up, wandered over to her bed, and picked up the picture of her and Chris at the dance.

"So, it looks to me like Chris is our best bet. He's still on the fence about the whole you-and-me thing. If we work real hard, and get him to come and visit us lots and lots, then I'm sure we can woo him with our Gilmore charms. I mean, he's a good guy. He wouldn't just run away from his girlfriend and baby, would he? He's all we have left."

She looked down at the tiny bump, as if waiting for an answer.

"No. He wouldn't. He loves me, so by extension, he loves you. He's just been busy. He started a new school. He'll call us. It's only been nine days since I heard from him."

She put the photo down, and scanned her bookcase. Eventually she chose a battered copy of The Shining, and sat down to read. She was sure that eventually, the party would get boring, and Christopher would come looking for her.

"Nine days," she muttered, as she turned to the first page.

* * *

Lorelai started, and sat up, realizing she had almost fallen asleep. She had read quite a reasonable amount of the book. She looked at the clock. 10:45. The guests would be starting to make their excuses by now. She sunk back down in the armchair as she realized that Christopher hadn't come to find her.

* * *

On Wednesday, Lorelai awoke to the sound of the telephone by her bed ringing. She picked it up, slightly annoyed, as she had another 20 minutes before she had to get up for school.

"Hello," she answered groggily.

"Happy Birthday, Lor," Christopher's hesitant voice called through the phone.

"Thanks," she replied, unable to keep the smile from her face. "So… what you been up to? It's been a while, Chris."

He hesitated, and she could hear him shifting around nervously. "You know. New school. It's hard work trying to find the cool crowd, and catch up on the work at the same time."

"Hey, why don't you come over after school? Surely you can get off a grounding for your girlfriend's birthday."

"Uh…. Yeah sure. I'll try."

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit Lorelai. "Uh, Chris, I gotta go, but I'll see you later?"

"Sure. Happy Birthday," he told her as she hung up the phone.

As she lay on the bathroom floor, recovering from first bout of sickness she'd had in over a week, she rested her head against the cool tiles. "Yeah," she mumbled glumly. "Happy Birthday to me."

* * *

Lorelai wandered into the living room and dumped her bookbag on the floor. "Mom?... Dad?" she called out. They had both left when she had come down for breakfast that morning, so she had assumed that they would be here when she got home from school. "The birthday girl is home!" she yelled. There was no answer. Apparently her assumption was wrong.

She was just on her way to the kitchen for a snack, when the doorbell rang. She ran to open it, beating the maid by a good 20 yards. Standing on the porch was Christopher, a nervous look on his face.

"You came," she smiled as she ushered him in the house. He went ahead into the living room as she waited a second before closing the door.

"He came, baby," she whispered. This idea of always having someone to talk to was really growing on her.

Lorelai settled herself on the couch next to Christopher, leaning her head on his shoulder. "So tell me about Groton," she commanded.

Christopher hesitated a moment before draping his arm around her shoulders, and started telling her about his new school.

Lorelai rested her hands on her stomach as she listened to him talk.

'See,' she thought. 'This is good. I don't have to marry him, but we can still be together. He can visit us all the time. It'll be good.'


	9. Comprehension

*****Comprehension*****

_May_

Lorelai tugged on her sweater as she walked into school. It was getting awfully tight, and kept riding up above her waist. She didn't think that wearing it as a crop-top, exposing her belly for the whole world to see would be acceptable. So, instead, she had to keep pulling it down at what seemed to be 30 second intervals. She was concentrating so much on her clothing, she walked through the double doors without noticing the huge banner gracing the front of the building.

As she entered, however, she stopped short. The hubbub in the halls was overwhelming. She had forgotten that this was going on. How, she wasn't sure – there had been posters up for weeks.

A flyer was thrust into her hands by a passing student. Knowing what it was going to say, she was loathe to read it, but after a small amount of hesitation she looked down at the paper in her hands.

_'Deerfield Academy_

_Bi-annual College Fair_

_Main Foyer_

_All day Friday_

_Essential information for Sophomores and Juniors'_

"Great," she muttered, rolling the flyer into a ball and throwing it in the direction of the trashcan, not bothering to check if it actually made it in.

The grand foyer and adjoining halls were packed with booths from all the best colleges. The Ivy Leagues got pride of place in the middle under the great ornamental clock. Surrounding them were the other more prestigious New England schools. Further out were some of the better schools from the rest of the country – Stanford, Duke, Berkeley and the like. And trailing down the halls were the state schools – the places Deerfield parents would never send their offspring.

Lorelai continued to stay frozen to the spot, unsure what to do. All her classes for the day were on the other side of this event. The last time this thing was on, she was excited about it – seeing the pretty brochures, dreaming about going to college, chatting animatedly with her friends about where they wanted to go. This time, she knew that she wouldn't be going, and that thought kept chanting in her head. She didn't want to have to walk past all these booths, having the ever-so-happy attendants call out to her, asking her questions about where she planned to go.

Knowing there was no other way, she squared her shoulders, and took a deep breath. Looking only straight ahead, she walked quickly through the throng of people. She was almost halfway there when she felt a whoosh of air going past her, a heavy shoulder bump, and within a second she found herself on the floor, staring at sets of feet as they walked past. Several of her books had fallen out of her bag, and she quickly gathered them back up. She reached out to the closest table to pull herself upright again. Her heart sank when she lifted her head, and was confronted with a sign screaming 'Vassar'.

She looked down at the table, which held shiny new brochures – much prettier than the one which was right now still sitting in a sparkly box under her bed. She ran her fingers over each one carefully. The paper felt so new in comparison to her worn copy.

She was dragged out of her reverie when an overly cheery voice chirped out "Hey. Considering Vassar? You'll love it there."

Lorelai stared at the blonde girl. "Yes. I know I would have," she blurted out, and quickly turned and ran out the way she came, leaving a very confused girl in her wake.

She ran away from the school until she was out of breath, which wasn't very far. As she slumped down on the sidewalk, her back against the wall of a church, she could still see the tops of the imposing iron gates that she walked through every morning. As she filled her lungs with air, she shook her head slowly.

"Idiot," she chastised herself. "If that wasn't an over-reaction, I don't know what is. Stupid hormones." After she regained her normal breathing patterns, she started to giggle. "Probably scared that poor girl half to death!"

After a few minutes, she stood up and started wandering aimlessly, not wanting to go back to school. As she passed a group of small stores, a delicious smell drew her towards a little coffee shop, set back from the road. She forced her way through the door, as if hypnotized, and came to a stop at the counter, where she took a seat on a stool.

An older man approaches her, order pad in his hand. He looks at her uniform and raises his eyebrows.

"Running a bit late, are we?" he comments, but she just gives a small shrug and doesn't meet his gaze. He tries another tack. "Get you anything?"

"Coffee. In a vat," she answers without looking up.

He pours her a large cup, and sets the pot down next to her, wandering away to deal with another customer.

She took a large gulp, and felt the soothing liquid quickly start to course through her veins. She looked down at her stilled hands – she hadn't realized that they had been shaking so badly until they stopped. She took a cleansing breath before finishing the cup in one more gulp. She poured herself another cup, and when she looked up, she found the man standing in front of her again.

"Doesn't Deerfield start at 8:15?" he asked her.

"Yip," she answered, sipping her coffee. She felt comfortable with him, so decided it was okay to talk. "But I'm already late, so there's no point in going to Bio."

He nodded. "You going to your next class, or stay here drinking all my coffee?" he asked her, leaning against the counter.

She shrugged. "Yeah, I'll go later. 'cept my next class is supposed to be gym, and I'm not allowed to do that anymore. So I'll go to third period probably. Only got four more weeks before I'm outta that place, so better get me some o' that learning." It felt nice to talk to someone.

"You don't look old enough to be a senior," he commented, looking at her face carefully.

"I'm not." She looked around the coffee shop, and saw there was only one old couple in the far corner. "Sophomore. Got myself in a bit of a situation." She stood up and turned side on to him, so he could see the small bump.

He looked down at the counter. "Oh. Sorry."

"Nah, don't sweat it."

"So, Sophomore… got a name?"

If he had been thirty years younger, she would have thought he was going to hit on her, but somehow she just had a feeling that he was just a nice guy. "Yeah, I got one."

He raised one eyebrow at her.

"Lorelai," she told him.

He considered this for a second. "Pretty." Then he wandered away to greet some more customers.

Lorelai pulled a book out of her bag, and began to read, sipping at her coffee intermittently.

"What you reading?" he asked as he returned to the counter.

She turned the cover towards him. "The Fountainhead," she told him. "It's for school."

He chuckled. "Yip. That sounds about right."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I'm not sure how I feel about it, really."

He nodded, seeing something in her eyes that was different to the other Deerfield kids who came in here.

Lorelai sighed after looking at the clock. "I suppose I better go back to school. I can't miss English, and that starts in 15 minutes."

"Sure." Lorelai pulled out her purse to pay, but he waved her off. "Don't worry about it. Just make sure you come back again."

"I will," she assured him, heading towards the door.

She forced herself to walk back to school, and when she arrived back in the foyer, she sped up, almost to the point of running, past the stupid college stalls. At least this time, with second period still in session, the halls were empty – so there was no one to hinder her speedy getaway.

* * *

Lorelai lay on the couch drinking a coke as she listened to her parents getting ready for a party. It was yet another event that she would have been invited to, had she not been pregnant.

"No, Richard. The blue is not appropriate."

"Why on earth not, Emily?"

"Because it clashes with my dress," Emily sighed.

"Oh, I'm awfully sorry. I didn't know that we were supposed to dress like the Bobsy Twins."

"For God's sake, Richard. Just put on the black, and let's go and get this over with." Emily came storming down the stairs. She walked over to where Lorelai was sitting.

"Is your homework done, Lorelai? You know that if you don't put the work in, you'll never get through these extra courses that teacher of yours wants you to take."

"Yes, mother. It's done."

"I still don't know why they insist on you taking those extra courses, since you've ruined your chance at college anyway," Emily muttered. "You'll just be marrying Christopher anyway." She started primping in the hall mirror.

"Except that I don't want to marry Chris," Lorelai retorted, but Emily was too engrossed in her own reflection to hear her.

"Now, we won't be too long, so don't think you can get away with having a party. We'll just be making a perfunctory appearance – that's it." She made a look which Lorelai knew meant she really didn't want to go, but was just doing it out of obligation.

As Emily turned away, Lorelai froze, her eyes wide. That was it. That was the look that Christopher kept giving her, pretty much ever since she had told him she was pregnant. It was obligation.

"Why did I not see it before?" she whispered to herself.

It made sense to her. The world they grew up in was one filled with obligation. She knew it well, that feeling that you were being forced to do things you didn't necessarily want to do. Normally, she and Chris would be wracking their brains to get out of them. She wondered if he was going to keep giving in to the obligation that had been so heavily ingrained, or if he would run away. She wasn't sure which was worse.


	10. Does Hallmark Make A Card For That?

*****Does Hallmark Make a Card for That?*****

Lorelai reached back into her locker and pulled out yet another book to shove into her backpack. It only just managed to fit in. She had pulled a trash can over to her locker, and began sweeping all the junk that was left down into it. She had just finished when Erika Jackson sauntered over to her, a smirk on her face.

"Lorelai, sweetie," Erika gushed, "what ARE we going to do without you?"

Lorelai just looked at her. They weren't exactly friends, so she knew that this conversation wasn't going to be pleasant.

"I mean, look at you." Erika gestured at Lorelai's changing body. "Eight months ago, you were homecoming princess..."

"Not by choice," Lorelai mumbled.

"... and now... I just can't think of anyone who could take your place." She pretended to be deep in thought. "Oh that's right.... I was next in line for homecoming court." The sarcasm was dripping off her like honey. "I should really thank Christopher for giving me this AMAZING opportunity. Wait, now what has happened to Chris? Oh, that's right... he got expelled because of you! You sure are a swell girlfriend, aren't you." Erika stood there, smiling sweetly.

"Go away, Erika," Lorelai spat. "You can have your precious crown – I don't want it. Just leave us alone."

Erika faked shock. "Oh! Don't say that – you need to give your bastard child something to be proud of you for!"

Lorelai saw red, and used all her willpower to stop herself from slapping Erika. She struggled to pick up her backpack, and stormed off, not caring where she was going. She found herself in the quad, and collapsed on a bench puffing. She tried to catch her breath, and then lifted her head to take in her surroundings. On the other side of the quad was a large group of seniors, celebrating the last day of school.

She had heard of this ritual, but had never seen proof of it. There was champagne flowing, the bottles being passed around casually. Music was blaring out of a boombox, and a trash can had been commandeered and turned into a make-shift bonfire. They were all in casual clothes, and one by one, were dropping articles of their uniform into the fire. As each piece of clothing burst into flames, the group would cheer. "No More School" rang out, echoing around the buildings.

It reminded her of the last day of school last year, when she had gone with a large group of her so-called friends to a nearby park with a range of alcohol that they had stolen from their parents' liquor cabinets to celebrate their freedom for the summer. Naturally, they had all promised each other that they would stay in contact over the vacation, and would organize lots of get-togethers. Most of them would see each other at the Vineyard as well.

This year, of course, had been very different. She had heard the yells and calls of the rest of her class as they left school, heading for the park, just like previously. She, however, hadn't been invited. She had heard conversations about the event stop abruptly as she approached for the last week or so.

So Lorelai had kept slowly emptying out her locker – her entire Deerfield life.

Nobody – with the exception of Erika – had said goodbye to her, although they were all well aware that it was her last day. If fact, nobody had even made any comments about her leaving. She had thought that at least some of her former friends would have said something.

She sat there watching the seniors for several minutes before getting up and walking slowly away. She had made it almost out of the school when she noticed that there was a tear sliding down her cheek.

She quickly wiped it away when she heard her name being called from the front steps of the building.

She turned and saw one of the English teachers standing there, beckoning to her.

"Ms Cleary?" she questioned.

"Good. Lorelai. I hear I'm going to be graced with your presence for the summer." Lorelai nodded meekly. "I have to say, I'm glad that you have decided to stay with us for the extra couple of months."

Lorelai gave a little half-smile. "Yeah, well... seemed like the best thing to do... you know... if i wanted to try and get my GED later on or something. And really, what else am I going to do for the next three months?"

Ms Cleary gave her a knowing smile. All the faculty knew that Lorelai had gone from one of the most popular in her class – the only sophomore to be voted onto homecoming court – to outcast in one fell swoop. They had joked she would be the perfect poster girl for why not to have sex. "I'll see you in two weeks then. We'll see if we can break a record for speed-learning," the teacher tried to lighten the mood.

"Yeah. See you in two weeks."

* * *

She arrived home, dragging her heavy bag, to find Christopher sitting on her front porch.

"Hey," she greeted. "Happy last day of school. Forever, for me."

Christopher didn't see anything funny about her comment. "Nothing happy about it."

She looked at him curiously as she opened the door and escorted him into the living room.

"Why are you not out celebrating with your classmates?" she asked him.

"Because they aren't my classmates anymore."

Lorelai stopped suddenly, and sat down next to him on the couch. "What do you mean?" she asked carefully.

"Got expelled again." Sitting this close, she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Oh Chris," she exclaimed, attempting to hug him, but he pushed her away.

He looked away from her and didn't expand.

"What happened?" she prompted.

"Spray painted the headmaster's car purple," he said shortly.

Lorelai hid a chuckle that was threatening to come out. "Any particular reason for that?"

He shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. He's a jerk. After, he said that they didn't tolerate trouble-makers at Groton, and I wouldn't be welcome back next year."

"So..." she ventured. "Last year, you were the perfect little boy. You turned sixteen, crashed your brand-new Porshe, and apparently got a feel for the dark side. Now you're a 'trouble-maker'."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Perfect little boy?"

"Well, relatively. Have you not listened to your parents? You just kept getting led astray by your tramp of a girlfriend." She giggled.

Instead of giggling with her, however, he looked around guiltily at the word 'girlfriend'.

"So, where you gonna go next year, then?" she asked, ignoring the look.

He sighed. "Mom's making enquiries at St Sebastians."

Lorelai made puking noises. "St Sebastians? Gross!"

"Or I could just not go. You need some company during the days?"

"Chris, don't be stupid. You have to go to school, even if it is stupid St Sebastians. It might not be that bad. I hear there's some great eye candy there. You know – Catholic schoolgirls. You can look, as long as you don't touch."

He simply shrugged.

"Seriously, it won't be that bad. And maybe this time you can stay there for more than a month. I'd be impressed." She rubbed his knee seductively. "And what can I think of to reward you?"

He pushed her hand away. "Lor, you're pregnant. Stop it."

She pouted. "That didn't stop you a couple of months ago."

He looked at her firmly. "Yeah, but you weren't..." he gestured towards her belly, " like that."

Any expression left her face. "Oh."

She moved away from him, and they sat in silence for a minute. Lorelai's hand was protectively over her stomach, as if trying to shield the baby from any bad feelings coming from its' father.

Suddenly, her eyes went wide. "Chris..." she gasped.

"What?" he snapped.

She smiled, reaching out towards his hand. "It's moving."

Christopher took a minute to understand what she was saying, but then allowed her to guide his hand to the bump. "Can you feel it?" she whispered.

He shook his head.

"Oh. Maybe it's too little. I could though."

"What'd it feel like?" his mood seemed to have improved with his child making it's presence known.

She thought for a moment. "Like... bubbles."

He crinkled his forehead. "Are you sure you don't have gas?"

She slapped his arm. "Ew. No. That was definitely the kid. It felt so weird."

"Are you supposed to be able to feel it yet? It's not even five months yet."

She shrugged. "How would I know? Maybe we have a really advanced kid. It'll be walking by six months, talking by nine months, reading by a year. Got myself a genius here."

Chris laughed for the first time that day. "Yeah right. You sure this genius kid is related to you?"

"Okay, fine," she agreed. "So between the two of us, it probably won't be Einstein, but it sure as hell will be gorgeous."

"Seriously. You, Lorelai Gilmore, are way too in love with yourself."

"Ah, but you love me just as much."

He looked away for a second. "Mmmhmm."

They heard the front door open, and Emily walk in.

Chris stood up. "I should go. I'm supposed to be grounded."

Lorelai nodded, then turned her attention to her mother. "Mom, I felt the baby move." You could hear the happiness in her voice.

Emily's face went dark. "How lovely for you, Lorelai. I'll ask Hallmark for the your-bastard-child-is-moving card." She left the room before Lorelai could react.

Lorelai had noticed that it was the second time in a couple of hours that her child had been called a bastard. "Well, I think it's cool," she called after the two retreating figures of Emily and Christopher moving in different directions away from her.


	11. Daddy Dearest

*****Daddy Dearest*****

Lorelai took a bite of icecream before placing the spoon back in the bowl. She was busy contemplating her day – too distracted even for icecream. It was weird. Her homelife had been very quiet in the last couple of weeks. Her parents were barely speaking to her – dinner was now a silent affair. So she had been looking forward to getting out of the house, and to talk to people again who weren't her parents' employees. Most of the kids who were there were repeating classes they had failed, or taking extra classes to get more credit. Lorelai was the only one who was taking a full courseload of classes to try and get through the entire eleventh grade curriculum in two months. She was the only kid in the classes who wasn't going to be returning to Deerfield in the fall. And she was the only kid who was getting special treatment from the teachers – some of it good, some of it really bad.

She had woken that morning with butterflies in her stomach – not the butterflies which she had grown to recognize as the baby moving, but real nerves. She dressed in leggings and a very baggy t-shirt that she had stolen from her father's closet – who would have thought that Richard Gilmore owned a t-shirt? She silently thanked whatever higher power was out there that baggy was chic right now. When she had arrived at school, she was glad that she didn't know anyone. She didn't really have a lot to do with the Juniors, so they didn't know who she was. It had been nice. None of the looks that she had been getting from her peers recently.

Her English classes had been okay – she had managed to get her head around them, anyway. But she was stressing about Calculus. It was like they had been speaking in another language. Nothing had stuck. It was like her brain had turned to mush. She sighed, wondering how she was going to catch up, and make it through the course.

"Oh, Lorelai. I didn't realize you were in here." Her father had appeared at the kitchen doorway, and seemed nervous. He was eyeing her bowl of icecream covetously.

"Pretend I'm not here," she told him.

He hesitated a bit. "Right. But if your mother asks, you haven't seen me." He quickly made his way to the pantry, exiting with a large piece of chocolate cake dripping with icing.

She watched his retreating figure closely, realizing that this was probably the longest conversation the two had had in weeks. She knew that he was ashamed of her, but she hadn't expected him to freeze her out.

Then, an idea came to her. She poured two cups of coffee, threw her bookbag over her shoulder, and followed her father to his study. She knocked nervously on the door, balancing the cups in one hand.

"Come in," she heard through the thick wooden door.

Opening the door slightly, she stuck her head in the dark study. "Daddy?" she called softly.

"What is it, Lorelai?" he asked her impatiently.

She entered the room slowly, placing the cup of coffee in front of him. "Um, well, as you know... I started summer school today."

Richard grunted, not looking up from his newspaper.

"And I was wondering... you know.... only if you had the time... if you could help me study. Just... I'm really not understanding this whole logarithms thing, and .... you work with numbers and stuff every day. So I thought... maybe...."

Richard looked up at her, his face softened slightly. "You want my help with your schoolwork?" He couldn't recall the last time she had asked him for help – with anything. It can't have been since elementary school.

Lorelai nodded slowly, wringing her hands in anticipation of his answer.

"Fine," he said, folding the newspaper and putting it to the side.

Lorelai tried to hide her pleasure at spending some civil time with her father, and pulled up a chair to the desk sedately. She tugged her bag open, taking her books out, and sat down to work.

* * *

Lorelai sighed, and leaned back in the chair. While she really did need to learn all the things that she had gone over with her father, it was stressful for both of them. She knew that her father was trying to help, but he had a habit of talking down to her, and snapping when she made a mistake. The only thing that had kept her in that room was the fact that for the first time in months, her father had been talking to her like he did before she got pregnant. Maybe it was because the heavy desk was hiding her increased waistline; maybe it was just that the difficult math was keeping his mind away from the predicament his daughter was in.

"I think I've got it now," she told him, pulling the textbook into her lap. "Thank you for your help." She smiled gratefully.

Richard pulled his glasses down off his nose. "You know, Lorelai," he began, "I know you may enjoy English much more than Math, but you should know that all the Math you are learning now will come in handy later on when you join the DAR, and need to plan functions – those budgets don't write themselves."

Lorelai tensed. Regardless of her arguments to the contrary, her parents were still expecting her to fall into their lifestyle. They saw her as a Hartford high society housewife – just like Emily was. They wanted her to join the societies and clubs that proper ladies joined. They wanted her to be nothing more than a silent observer in her own life – not making decisions for herself. She wanted something better for her – and for the baby.

"Uh... Dad. I don't want to join the DAR and do all that stuff."

"Of course you do," he dismissed. "The wife of a Hayden is expected to take on certain duties." His demeanor had turned gruff.

"I'm not marrying Christopher. He knows that. And frankly he seemed pretty relieved. He doesn't want to get married either."

"Of course he doesn't. But it's not about what either of you wants. It's about what is right – what is expected of you," he told her, his voice raised. He had pulled himself out of his chair, making him more intimidating.

Lorelai felt her blood boiling. "I don't care what is expected of me. You can't force me to get married, especially if it's just to soothe your stupid pride, and make you look good in front of your precious friends!"

"Lorelai, you are a child. You will do as you are told."

"Yes, that's right. I'm a child. I'm too young to get married, especially to someone who has only come to visit me twice this month, while I'm pregnant with HIS child. What kind of marriage do you think that would be?"

"Regardless," Richard stormed, "Christopher knows his responsibilities just as well as you do. The difference is that he is willing to step up and face them. He knows that it is his duty to marry you and make an honest existence for you and that baby."

Lorelai became very quiet. It was obvious to her that her parents didn't care about what would make her happy. They cared a lot more about what society thought of them. "I made a mistake," she whispered, and Richard had to pause to hear what she was saying. "I know that. If I could go back and change that night, I would. But it's done. Does that mean that we should be unhappy for the rest of our lives?" She looked at her father pleadingly. "Because we would be. Chris would resent me, and resent the baby for ruining all his plans. He shouldn't be tied down. He should go to college, backpack around Europe... everything we've been talking about for years. I know that you don't understand it, but I know I'm right. I'm trying to make the most of this. Please, Daddy, accept that."

Richard stared intently into her face, a trace of sympathy flickering past his eyes. He held her gaze for a full minute before breaking away, looking at the papers on his desk, and picking up a gold pen. He started making notes on a legal pad, and didn't raise his eyes again.

Lorelai sighed, and gathered her belongings. She turned and left the study. As soon as the door was closed behind her, she felt a tear escape down her cheek. She ran up the stairs to her room, where she slumped on the floor. Memories ran through her head like a film strip of the few times when she was younger when she had crept into her father's office and watched him work quietly from the corner. She knew they had never had the best relationship – he had always been more interested in work than in what she had to say. But still – he was her dad. No matter how grown up she was now – soon to be a parent herself – she still wanted him to love her. Right now, she wasn't really sure if either of her parents did love her. Logically, she presumed that they did, but surely if they loved her, they would want her to be happy.


	12. The Good and Bad of Christopher Hayden

*****The Good and Bad of Christopher Hayden*****

"Argh!" Lorelai threw her pen across the room in anger, and slammed her Statistics textbook closed with as much force as she could manage. She let out a cathartic scream, which resulted in a concerned look from the current maid, who was dusting in the hallway directly outside her bedroom. Nothing she could do was helping her to concentrate on her homework. And this homework was important – straight after the holiday weekend, she had a big test, which was worth 40% of her final grade.

Frustrated, Lorelai slipped shoes on, and stormed down the stairs. As she reached the front door, her mother called to her.

"Lorelai, where do you think you're going?" Emily snapped, coming out of the kitchen with an intricate flower arrangement.

Lorelai sighed heavily. "I'm going for a walk, mother. I need to clear my head. Now is that okay with you, or do I need to make an appointment – you know – clear it with the CIA or something?"

"There is no need for that attitude, young lady." Emily paused in her admonitions to look out the window. Seeing that it was still light outside, she paused. "I don't think that's such a good idea. What if someone sees you?"

Lorelai scoffed. "Mother, I don't give a damn whether anyone sees me. There is no need to be so concerned about your precious reputation, considering this piece of gossip is already old news in the Hartford society set." She motioned towards her protruding stomach. Without waiting for an answer, she went out the door, slamming it shut after her.

She power-walked to the end of the block before realizing how out of breath she was. Bending over with her hands on her knees, she tried to regulate her breathing, before setting off again at a much more sedate pace. She had been walking for no more than five minutes, when exhaustion hit her.

She poked her stomach gently. "Hey kid," she mumbled, careful that no passers-by would hear her. "So I'm not allowed to even go for a walk now without you tiring me out? How is that fair?" She saw a bench 50 yards ahead, and headed straight for it, relief washing over her as she slumped onto the hard wood. She glanced up to realize she hadn't paid any attention to where she had been going.

She was bending over, examining a rip in her jeans, when she heard a voice behind her. "Hey, Lor."

'Christopher,' she thought as she stood and turned towards him.

He did a double-take when he saw her properly. "Wow. You got fat."

She glared at him. "I got fat?" she repeated, unable to believe that he had used those words. "In case you had forgotten, you did this to me."

"I know..." Christopher tried to get out, but Lorelai was too angry at his comment to let him speak.

"And maybe you wouldn't be so surprised at how much I've grown, if you were around more. A few months ago, you were all 'I'll be there for you' and crap like that. Now.... it's been six fucking weeks since I last saw you, Chris. And that was only because you had a problem, wasn't it?"

Just then a petite blonde girl came out of the house they were sitting outside. She bounded up to them.

"Hey, Chris," she called, placing a kiss on his cheek. Christopher looked nervous and tried to subtly push her away. Lorelai's eyes went wide. The girl looked Lorelai up and down. "Who's your friend?" the blonde asked.

Lorelai felt like her head was about to explode. "What the hell?" she yelled, not caring who heard.

"Lor, it's not what you think."

"What do I think, Chris? 'Cause to me, it looks like while I've been stuck doing summer school, and being forced into isolation by Emily, you've been fucking cheating on me! No wonder you haven't been to see me AND YOUR BABY. You've been out whoring around with every little slut that walks past!"

"Chris, what's going on?" the blonde asked in a small voice, her hand on his shoulder. "Who is she?"

Christopher kept his voice calm. "What did you expect, Lor? You said you didn't want to marry me."

Lorelai threw her hands up. "That didn't mean that I was breaking up with you. Although, now I am. So, are you going to come see us at the hospital, or should I just send you a generic birth announcement?" She stormed off down the street.

As she walked, she could hear the girl yelling. "You had better have a good explanation for this, Chris." A few seconds later, a door banged loudly. Then there was the sound of footsteps running, getting louder and louder. She increased her pace slightly, still very aware of the extra weight she was lugging around.

Then his hand was on her shoulder, turning her towards him. "Lor, stop. Please." He pulled her in, and kissed her – hard. Considering Lorelai had been feeling particularly amorous since the nausea stopped, it took all her self-control to push him away.

"Get off me, Chris, or so help me God..."

"Just let me talk, okay? I love you, Lor. But you're not exactly capable of being a good girlfriend right now, are you?" He looked her up and down.

Lorelai narrowed her eyes as her blood boiled. "I'm only six months, Chris. There's a long way to go. What? Did you expect me to stay a perfect size six forever?"

He sighed. "No. But me and Felicity..."

"Oh. So it has a name, then?" she snarled.

He ignored her comment. "Felicity is just a fling. Once the kid is born, then we can go back to how we were."

Lorelai shook her head. "No, Chris. It's never going to be how it was before. In three months, I'm going to be a mother. I'll be responsible for keeping a human being alive. We can't just hang out, fool around, and go to parties like we used to."

Chris looked confused. "But why not? That's what the nanny is for."

"And I just forget that I have a kid, and let an employee raise it? Because I can't do that, Chris."

"But that's what you do. You and I, all our friends, our parents – we were all raised by nannies. We turned out fine."

"Did we?" Lorelai snarled, and started walking home, leaving Christopher to mull over what she had said.

* * *

Lorelai had just made it back to her room, and sat back at her desk when she heard a tapping on her window. Confused, she pulled the curtains open to see Christopher standing on her balcony.

She opened the window slowly. "What are you doing here? Didn't we just establish that you have a new girlfriend?" She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"Lor, please just give me two seconds."

She looked at him with her eyebrows raised. "Right. That's two seconds. See ya!" She went to close the window, but Christopher held it open against her.

"Funny," he grumbled, pushing his way into her bedroom. She felt somewhat annoyed that he thought he had the right to come into her space uninvited.

Lorelai sunk onto the foot of her bed, and crossed her arms across her chest. "Talk then."

Christopher made his way to the center of the room, scuffing his feet nervously. "Uh..." he started and then glanced around the room, without finishing a thought.

"Good argument," Lorelai told him.

"Just give me a sec," he yelled.

"I thought I just did," she grumbled.

After clenching and unclenching his jaw several times, Christopher sighed. "What do you want from me?"

"I want to know what you want, Chris. Do you want to be with me? Because this," she gestured between the two of them, "isn't just some casual thing. Well I thought it wasn't, anyway. Seeing her today – that was harsh."

"Yeah I can see that."

"Bottom line. You're either with me, or you're not."

Christopher thought for a minute. "Okay. Fine. I'll ditch Felicity."

"Don't do me any favors," she spat.

" I want you, Lor. But this baby thing is just.... it sux. You're not just my hot girlfriend anymore."

"Well me and this thing are kinda a package deal now. Like Joanie and Chachi."

Christopher looked puzzled. "Have you stopped watching TV or something? 'Cause your references are really losing their edge. That show was cancelled over a year ago." He chuckled, but Lorelai didn't even crack a smile back.

"So you in or out?"

"I'm as 'in' as Converse."

"You hear that, kid," she said to her stomach, rubbing it gently. "Daddy is going to be around more."

Christopher blanched. "Daddy," he repeated, taking a deep breath.

"And this is just now occurring to you?"

He shrugged. "Spose not." He couldn't tear his eyes away from the baby bump. "I should go." He started to climb out the window again.

Lorelai coughed. "Um... aren't you forgetting something?"

He turned around. "What?"

"Kiss?" she prompted.

"Oh yeah," he sighed, and took the three steps back to her. He pressed his lips to hers, quickly using his tongue to try and get her to open her lips.

She pushed him away. "Not now," she told him firmly. As he turned to leave again, she cleared her throat for a second time. "You forgot something else."

He looked at her, completely confused.

She pointed to her stomach. "A kiss for baby."

He rolled his eyes. "You're completely crazy, you know that?" But he placed a quick kiss on her t-shirt.

She watched him climb out the window, then as a second thought, ran towards it. "Chris?" she called as he was climbing off the balcony, gripping onto the drainpipe.

"Yeah?"

"You're gonna have to work real hard at this. We're not gonna let you walk all over us."

"I know." He slid down to the ground, making it look easy.

_________________________________

Lorelai lay in bed that night, thinking about what had occurred that day. Rubbing her belly slowly, she spoke to her unborn child.

"He was cheating on me, kid. And I just forgave him. Should I have made him beg a bit more? It just seemed... too easy."

She sighed.

"But, it's Chris. My Chris. He's your dad. I have to forgive him, don't I?"

She was so confused. The second she had opened that window to let him in, all her resolve seemed to fly right out of it.


	13. High School Dropout

*****High School Dropout*****

Lorelai Victoria Gilmore, daughter of Richard and Emily, sixteen years and four months old, Homecoming princess, top 10 percent in her class, is now officially a high school drop-out. She leaves with no qualifications, nothing. Not even a drivers licence. As she stared up at the ivy-covered walls where she had spent the last two years of her life, she felt a kick to her abdomen. A strong kick.

"Okay, Pelé. I get it. We're leaving soon." She continued to keep her attention on the imposing brick building. She was not in the mood to go home and face her parents. On the other hand, she knew that a walk around town would just make her depressed, as all the stores had started to assemble their back-to-school window displays.

On a whim, she wandered back into the hallowed halls. When she looked around now, they suddenly didn't seem quite so imposing. She was no longer subject to their authority - they held no power, no mystery. She strolled up and down the now familiar halls, dragging her fingers gently over the ornate banisters, hitting her hands on the signs announcing "Office", "Infirmary", and "Headmaster". Everything was so still, so quiet. So different to the days when she would be just a normal student. Back in those carefree days, it had seemed chaotic. There was chatter, giggling, yelling. Noise was everywhere, and Lorelai knew that she wasn't innocent of making more than her fair share of noise.

It was all too tempting, and Lorelai couldn't resist the urge. "Echo!" she shouted, and to her delight, she heard 'Echo... echo... echo...' fade back to her. She clapped her hands with excitement, just like a child.

"Goodbye!" she called out this time.

'Goodbye...goodbye...goodbye', the walls called back to her.

Lorelai grinned at the idea that the building was bidding her farewell.

As she completed her circuit of the square building, Lorelai paused when she found herself back in the ornate main foyer. She looked at the intricately carved woodwork, and felt the need to leave her mark. There needed to be something of her left in this school when she was just a distant memory for the majority of her classmates. Her face wasn't going to grace the walls in the long line of Valedictorians. Something else was needed.

The idea sprang into her brain like it had been lying dormant for years. She hurriedly searched through her purse until she found the perfect instrument, and then eased herself down onto the floor by the wall, so she could get better access to her target.

Her face frowned in concentration as she worked diligently, and even if a staff member had walked past, she wouldn't have even noticed, so intent was she on her task.

She smiled widely when she lent back to admire her work. Engraved on the baseboard of the central pillar was _'LVG : 82-84'_. Satisfied, she wrenched herself into a standing position, using the now grafittied pillar to pull her enlarged body up. She returned the beloved nail file back into her purse, and took a last long look at the inside of Deerfield Academy. No longer a student of the prestigious school, she knew she wouldn't have a reason to return - it's not like she would be invited to the reunion in 12 years time.

It was over. When the next census came around, she wouldn't be described as 'Student'. Her best answer would be 'Mother'.

* * *

Lethargy had taken over as Lorelai wrenched open the heavy front door of the Gilmore house. She looked forward to collapsing into bed with a Tootsie Roll... or four. Maybe a bath would also be appreciated, however she didn't trust that she would be able to get out of the bath again without assistance. And the idea of asking for Emily's help in the process was repulsive.

Instead of a quiet rest, however, Lorelai was assaulted at the door by her overly enthusiastic mother.

"Lorelai! There you are, finally. You must come and look. It's wonderful!"

Lorelai paused, surveying the strange woman in front of her. "Who are you and what have you done with my mother?"

"Oh, must you be so dramatic, Lorelai? Honestly. Now, follow please." Emily almost skipped towards the stairs.

Lorelai frowned at the back of her supposed mother, but trailed slowly after her. "No, seriously. My mother has barely said two words to me in the past six months. You have single-handedly broken her record in the space of a minute. Not that I'm adverse to the idea of her kidnapping, but do you have her tied up somewhere?"

Emily turned to give a pointed look at her daughter. "Will you speed up please? Not everyone has as relaxed a timetable as you."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not quite as fleet-of-foot as I once was. Give me six more weeks, and then we can hold hands and skip around the block to your hearts content." She made it to the top of the stairs, and turned towards the bedrooms, only to find her mother heading in the opposite direction. "Uh, where are we going?"

"Third floor," Emily called over her shoulder as she rounded the corner to the next set of stairs.

"O... kay." Lorelai searched her brain, trying to recall when the last time she was on the third floor was. It must have been years ago. Then it came to her. She had been 14, and was using the unused third floor bathroom to escape the house unnoticed, shimmying down the drainpipe.

"I really should have thought to get Christopher here to see this too," Emily mused as she climbed the stairs.

"Yes, because he is such a frequent visitor to this house," Lorelai grumbled, thinking about how things hadn't really changed between her and Chris since their fight.

Lorelai caught up with her mother standing outside a bedroom door. "It's finished," Emily stated, staring at the door.

"What's finished, Mom? This insanity? Because I'll be sure to get you a room with a view at the asylum."

Emily opened the door. "The nursery, of course."

Lorelai stepped inside after her mother. "The nursery? Why would we put a nursery so far away from my room? How inconvenient is it going to be to be up and down those stairs all night? Can't we just put it in my room with me?"

Emily sighed. "Don't be ridiculous, Lorelai. This is the nursery because it adjoins the nanny's room."

Lorelai frowned. "Mother, are you off your meds? We don't have a nanny."

"Well of course we don't right now," Emily huffed. "But we'll hire one by the time the baby arrives."

Lorelai's face clouded over. "Mom, I don't want a nanny. I can look after it myself."

Emily brushed her off. "Of course we need a nanny. It's what is proper. Only commoners get up in the middle of the night to a screaming child."

"What if I wouldn't mind being a commoner?" Lorelai mumbled.

"What was that?" Emily pressed.

"Nothing."

"Good. Now, what do you think of the decorating?"

Lorelai sighed. "It's beautiful, Mom." She knew that unless she agreed with her mother, she would never escape to rest in her own room.

"Good. Now, since you don't have to worry about school anymore, I have set up a few interviews with prospective nannies in the next week. I think you should be there." She handed Lorelai a piece of paper. "Here are the times that I will need you." Emily left the room.

"Huh?" Lorelai scampered after her mother. "You think I should be there? Shouldn't it be completely my decision?" By the time Lorelai made it back down to the third floor, Emily was nowhere to be seen. Lorelai shook her head in frustration and let out a sigh.

She made her way back to her bedroom, almost salivating at the thought of lying down. Just as she entered the room, however, her ajar wardrobe door caught her attention. She opened it, to find her entire school uniform - the six shirts, four skirts, and two blazers - staring back at her in dry-cleaning bags.

"And why would I need this again?" she asked the empty room.

She ripped the garments out of the closet, and shoved them unceremoniously under her bed, before lying on it herself. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Lorelai awoke with a start, and looked around her bedroom frantically. She had dreamt that her ugly school uniform had escaped the confines of her under-bed storage, and was coming after her. Her blazer was incredibly intent on smothering her in her sleep. The crisp white blouses were attempting to tie her up to avoid any means of escape. And her serious school shoes were mocking her from the corner, cheering the other clothing on.

"What the hell?" she exclaimed, checking quickly that her body parts were all still intact. "That's it."

She extricated each piece of her uniform from under her bed, and forced them all into a carry bag. She climbed the two flights of stairs slowly, and paused before entering the attic. Quickly, she wrenched the door open, threw the bag inside, and slammed the door closed again.

Relief flooded her as for the second time that afternoon, she collapsed on her perfectly accessorized bed.


	14. Red Balloons can cause War

**Red Balloons can cause war.**

There was a knock at the door, and the maid came in, carrying the cheese sandwich Lorelai had requested. Her parents were at some function - Lorelai had stopped listening to the particulars of their social life - and wouldn't be home for hours. So she was fending for herself for the night. Well, as much 'fending for yourself' as is possible with a maid and a cook on call. She lay on her back, gently playing with her belly-button, which had gone from being an inney to an outey about a month ago. This development had really upset her, as she had enjoyed rubbing her hand slowly up and down over her stomach mindlessly, feeling the baby moving beneath her hand. Now, every time she tried this, her stupid sticky-outey bit kept catching on her hand, interrupting her unconscious stroking.

When the maid set the sandwich on the nightstand, Lorelai looked at it curiously. She realized that she felt - well, full. But not quite.

"Uh, thanks, Brigette," she told the maid. "I'll be fine for the rest of the night. You can go home."

"Thank you, Miss Gilmore," the maid replied, giving a weird little bow before closing the door.

Lorelai looked at her baby bump, and frowned, wondering why she felt full when she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. She was now eight days past her due date, and had started to feel like every bite of food she took was being forced into a space that was already filled with tiny human.

Glancing again at the sandwich, she lay back down with the overwhelming urge to take a nap, even though it was still only 8:30.

"Mmmm... sleep," she mumbled with a large smile on her face as she drifted off.

* * *

Lorelai awoke with a start to the sound of voices in the hallway - her parents. She looked at her clock. It was almost 2am. She groaned as she took in her surroundings - she was still fully dressed, lying on the made bed, the overhead lights blaring. Her eyes fell on the television she had got the maid to bring into her room a few days ago. She inserted a tape into the VCR, and pressed play. It was an episode of Quincy, M.E. One of her favorites. She picked up her sandwich and took a bite. Not because she was especially hungry, but mainly because it was something to do with her antsy hands.

On her second bite, she felt a stabbing pain in her abdomen. "Ow," she let out. She paused, listening for sounds in the hallway. There was silence. Her parents had obviously gone to bed.

Not sure what she had actually felt, she continued watching her show, not really concentrating on the storyline. She was fast-forwarding through the next set of commercials when the pain came back again, slightly stronger this time.

"Shit," she whispered, realizing what was happening.

She quickly put together a small tote bag with a change of clothes and her walkman in it, making sure to include a couple of tapes, and snuck down the stairs. She used the kitchen phone to call a cab, keeping her voice soft. As she hung up, she found a pencil and an old supermarket receipt, and scribbled a note:

_Dear Mom and Dad,  
__I'm in labor.  
__See you later,  
__Lorelai_

In an unexpected state of calm, she looked around slowly for somewhere to leave the paper, and decided to put it on her bed upstairs. They would only find it once they went up to check on her, which if previous days were anything to go by, could be ages.

* * *

Lorelai glanced around the waiting room anxiously. Spotting the reception desk, she took a deep breath and approached the nurse manning it.

The nurse looked up. "What can I do for you?"

"Uh... I think I'm in labor..." she ventured. "Either that, or Jackie Chan is practicing for his new movie inside me."

"How far apart are your contractions?" the nurse asked her.

Lorelai looked at her, bewildered, and simply shrugged. "I don't know... from the time the guy had a heart attack to when Quincy had a fight with Lieutenant Monahan?"

"Okay, hon. Take a seat, and fill out these forms. I'll be with you in a minute."

Lorelai smiled nervously at the nurse, deciding that she seemed nice. She didn't give off that judgemental vibe that she was so familiar with. Settling in an uncomfortable plastic chair, Lorelai took in the three pages she needed to fill out. The first bits seemed easy enough - name, address, birthdate. After that, things became more perturbing. Insurance information jumped out at her. She groaned. She didn't know what kind of insurance she had, let alone a policy number. She just presumed that her father's company took care of all that stuff.

She had filled out as much as she could when the nurse came up to her again, that friendly look on her face not calming Lorelai's nerves.

"Are you done?" she asked.

Lorelai glanced at her half-completed form again. "Yes," she conceded, and handed the clipboard over.

"Okay. Is anyone with you, hon?" The nurse looked concerned.

"No," Lorelai sighed.

"Well, someone will be up to get you in a second."

Lorelai forced a small smile. "Thanks."

'Chris,' she thought. 'If anyone should be here, it's him, right?' She glanced at her watch briefly, and seeing it was still only 3am, decided she couldn't call him.

Sighing, she placed her headphones on, and pressed play, hoping the music would stop her mind working overtime worrying about what she was about to do.

_Hast __du __etwas __Zeit __für __mich  
__Dann__ singe __ich __ein__ Lied __für __dich  
__Von 99 __Luftballons  
__Auf __ihrem __weg __zum __Horizont__...._

Lorelai breathed deeply like the doctor had instructed her earlier, willing the pain to go away. Three breaths later, it did, much to her relief. Relaxing back into the hard pillows behind her head, she looked around the room, taking it all in. All the walls were perfectly white, making it hard to tell where one wall ended and the next began. For some reason, it made her think of The Twilight Zone. Maybe it was the disorientation. She glanced around the room, expecting to see Dan Aykroyd come out from behind a curtain. She considered that for a place where there is likely to be a lot of blood and other dirty substances, maybe white wasn't exactly the best color choice, but shook that off. Now wasn't the best time to be giving the hospital board decorating advice.

It was quiet - she could hear her own deep breathing. Lonely. Her apprehension made her wish that someone was here with her. Someone to calm her nerves. Someone to hold her hand and tell her that everything would be fine. But nobody was there. She was alone.

A tear slipped out, and slid down her cheek. She brushed it away quickly, determined that nobody would see her emotions. She was Lorelai Gilmore. She didn't need help from anyone. She was going to do this by herself if necessary. She just wished that it wasn't necessary.

Deciding that Christopher would be getting ready for school, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the door. Being extra careful to keep her hospital gown closed at the back, she wandered out to the nurse's station.

The nurse perched at this desk wasn't nearly as nice as the one at the admissions desk. "What are you doing out here?" she grunted.

"Uh... sorry. I was hoping to make a call."

The nurse looked her up and down before pointing to the bright red phone sitting next to her. "Fine. But just one. Next time, use the payphone down the hall."

"You took my purse off me," Lorelai muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" the nurse snapped.

"Uh.. nothing," Lorelai squeaked. "Just trying to remember the number." She smiled sweetly at the middle-aged nurse, and picked up the phone, dialling the Hayden residence.

Surprisingly, Francine, and not a maid, answered the phone. "Hayden residence," she snapped.

"Hi, it's Lorelai. Can I speak to Chris?"

There was a pause on the other end. "He's in the shower." Lorelai frowned, knowing that by this time of the morning, Chris would be finishing breakfast, and leaving the house in 10 minutes. Not in the shower like his mother was claiming.

"Uh... could you give him a message for me please?"

Francine sighed. "Fine."

"Um... can you please tell him that I'm in labor? I'm at St Josephs on the fourth floor, and I'd really like him to be here. Please make sure he knows," Lorelai almost pleaded, not caring about her pride at that moment.

"I'll be sure he gets your message," Francine replied shortly before hanging up in Lorelai's ear.

As she replaced the receiver in its cradle, the nurse handed her a paper cup filled with ice chips. "The doctor will be in to check on you shortly. Take these."

As she turned back towards her room, ice chips in one hand, and holding her gown closed with the other, Lorelai looked bewildered at the cup of frozen water. "Yeah, sure Sparky. What in Laura Ingalls name am I supposed to do with these?"

* * *

Lorelai whimpered as the contraction subsided, and threw a chip of ice at the door in frustration just as Dr Weissman entered. The ice chip hit him on the shoulder, and he looked at his patient in shock.

"Well, I was going to examine you now, but if this has become a war zone, I can come back later."

"No, it's fine, the Iran-Iraq conflict hasn't yet made it to Connecticut," she grumbled. She threw another ice chip at the wall opposite her. "Stupid Christopher." She was pretending that each chip of ice was his head.

Dr Weissman raised his eyebrows. "I take it the father isn't here yet."

Lorelai glared at nobody in particular - just glaring at the world. "Nineteen hours! I called him nineteen hours ago. I left a message to come down here, and he isn't here. Jerk."

Dr Weissman looked sympathetically at the little girl, swamped by blankets, lying in front of him. He considered his own daughter, just turned fifteen, and his heart ached at the thought of her having to go through this without him or his wife there. Watching as she grimaced and panted through another contraction, clutching her belly tightly, he placed a warm hand on Lorelai's arm. "Maybe he didn't get the message," he suggested when it was over. "Do you want to call him again?"

Lorelai sighed. "It's the middle of the night. I'd get in so much trouble with his parents for calling this late."

"But these are exceptional circumstances. I'm sure they'd wake him."

"You don't know his parents." She slumped down in the bed, defeated, and readied herself for the examination.

"Well, Miss Gilmore," he said brightly as he finished checking her out, "looks like you're ready. Ten centimeters. Time to go to the delivery room."

Lorelai's eyes widened, and terror crossed her face. "Are you sure?" she asked quietly.

"Positive."

Lorelai didn't have time to contemplate her fear, however, as another, stronger contraction swept over her, rendering her speechless, save for a moan.

Dr Weissman poked his head out the door. "Can you transfer Miss Gilmore to the delivery room, please?" He looked back at his patient. "I'll see you in there. It'll be fine." He nodded reassuringly, before leaving.

Luckily, it wasn't Nurse Grumpy who entered Lorelai's room a few seconds later. It was a nurse who introduced herself as Yvonne. Yvonne seemed motherly and comforting. She helped Lorelai move over onto a gurney, and whispered reassuring words to her as they wheeled out of the room and into the corridor. She motioned towards an orderly to help her move the gurney to it's destination.

Another contraction hit, and Lorelai grimaced and turned towards Yvonne. "Okay. This is a big pain, and I'd really like it to go away, please," she told the nurse.

Yvonne kept her calm voice. "Just breathe deep, honey." She rubbed Lorelai's arm quickly and continued down the corridor.

Lorelai let out a frustrated groan. "Breathing doesn't help. Can I hit you instead?"

Yvonne looked at Lorelai. "What?"

"Or pinch you really hard, 'cause that might make me feel better," she suggested menacingly.

Yvonne raised her eyebrows. "No, you cannot hit me." She was firm but kind.

Lorelai persisted. "Can I bite you? Or pull your hair? Or use an Epilady on you? 'Cause I really need to do something." She frowned at the pain.

A familiar voice echoed through the hospital, coming from behind them. "Lorelai Gilmore!"

Lorelai sucked in a breath. "Wheel this a little faster, please," she hissed to Yvonne.

Emily, however, was no match for a cumbersome hospital trolley. She caught up in seconds. "Lorelai," she admonished, seemingly unconcerned about her daughter's current position. "You do not do this. You do not just leave a person a note." Lorelai could tell from the outfit her mother wore, that they had just returned from a function. She rolled her eyes to herself to realize that it had taken her parents a full day to notice that she was gone.

Lorelai gestured towards her spread-eagled position. "Okay... see the timing here?"

Emily ignored her only child's frustration and read aloud the note in her hand. "Dear Mom and Dad. I'm in labor. See you later, Lorelai."

"Ow!" Lorelai interrupted as another contraction hit. She gripped the sheets tightly, and pretended that they were her mother's head.

Richard hobbled behind the group, struggling to keep up. "Emily, please. I feel ridiculous." He tried to increase his pace while keeping his attention on his inappropriate footwear.

Emily kept her rant going, despite the protests of the other two members of her family. "You're having a baby, do you know that Lorelai?"

Lorelai sighed and turned towards her mother. "Well, that explains the stomachache," she said through gritted teeth.

"You do not leave you house when you are having a baby without telling your mother," Emily ranted. "You say, 'Excuse me, Mom. I'm having a baby. Give me a ride to the damn hospital!'"

"Emily, please," Richard protested, shuffling behind them. "I wore the wrong shoes for this."

"Of all the things in the world I had a right to do, driving my daughter to the hospital to give birth, especially since she's sixteen years old and doesn't have her drivers licence yet, is definitely one of them." Emily gripped the side of the gurney to keep herself in line with Lorelai.

As they turned the corner, Yvonne stopped Emily's advance. "Ma'am, I need you to wait out here, please," she told the almost hysterical woman.

Emily did a double take, for the first time noticing the nurse in her presence. "Why?" she asked haughtily.

"Because we're going into the delivery room," Yvonne explained calmly.

Emily tried to push past. "I want to go in," she insisted.

Lorelai's eyes widened at the thought of her mother being present at such an intimate moment, and seeing her in such a compromising position. "No, Mom, please," she begged.

Richard looked between his wife and daughter. "Yes, Emily, please," he insisted, attempting to keep her back with a simple touch.

Emily glared at the nurse, and backed down. "Fine," she huffed. "We'll be right here when you're done."

Lorelai smothered a sarcastic smile on her face. "Super," she grumbled, as she was wheeled away.

Emily wasn't done, however. "And do not think we are finished discussing this, young lady. Because we are not!" she yelled down the hall after Lorelai.

Richard found two empty chairs and tried to lead his wife towards them. "Emily," he prodded, "let's just sit here."

Lorelai felt another pain rip through her abdomen as the doors closed behind her, and she was confronted with the reality of the delivery room. This was it.

* * *


	15. A Beginning and an End

*****A Beginning and an End*****

Lorelai groaned weakly as she rubbed her eyes and woke up to the sound of Yvonne entering her room.

"Morning, sunshine," she chirped. "I've brought someone to see you."

Lorelai kept her eyes closed, not looking towards the door. "It's not my mother, is it?" She struggled to shake off the groggy feeling left over from the exceeds of pain drugs she had been given.

Yvonne chuckled. "Nope. This little girl doesn't have a name yet, but she does look hungry. You wanna give her a bottle?"

She hesitated, looking at the bundle which was her tiny daughter. "I don't want to break her," she admitted.

Yvonne smiled at her. "You're not going to break her. She just wants to see her mommy." She handed the baby to Lorelai, who took her gingerly. Her chest became tight at the sound of the word 'Mommy'. She repeated the word over in her head. It was a word which she had never really associated with anyone in her life before, and held a strange sound to Lorelai's ears. Her own mother had never been referred to as 'Mommy'. She had always been 'Mom', or 'Emily'. As the word swam around in her head, a different intonation each time, she tried to comprehend that she was the person being referred to. When the word 'Mommy' was uttered in the Gilmore house now, it would be her that was being called.

Yvonne left, evading Lorelai's pleas for her to stay. 'Who cares about your other patients? They're not as scared as I am,' was the completely selfish thought which came to Lorelai's mind. Suddenly, the two Gilmore girls were left alone, a thought which terrified Lorelai. What if she dropped her? How was she supposed to be held? How was she supposed to know how to feed a baby? But her fears were assuaged when the little girl started suckling eagerly on the bottle, as if she had been doing it for years.

"Hey, you're clever, kid," Lorelai told her daughter. "A regular Einstein." As the baby ate, Lorelai fingered the tiny plastic name bracelet circling the delicate wrist. "Suppose you need a name, huh?" She read what was written on the bracelet: _Baby Girl Gilmore (Lorelai Gilmore)_. She giggled at seeing this little baby bearing her own name.

"So? Any preferences?" she asked the little girl, who stared directly at Lorelai with huge bright blue eyes. "Well... it'd be easier if you were a boy. Boys tend to get named after their fathers. But that's a bit sexist isn't it? How come only guys get to do that? So unfair." She knew she was babbling. "If you want, I could still call you Chris. I suppose we could just change it to Christine or something. But, then again, he didn't even bother to come and see you, so why should he get to have a namesake? I did all the damn work. He did nothing. If anyone, you should be named after me, not him!" She had been joking, but as she continued to stare, amazed, at her daughter, Lorelai began to question whether it really was such a ridiculous idea. Why shouldn't she get to name her child after herself? She belonged solely to her - she could name her whatever she wanted. She could name her Snagglepuss if she wanted to.

When the baby stopped drinking, she placed the half-empty bottle on the nightstand. She repositioned her so that they were looking directly at each other. "What do you think of the name Lorelai, huh?" She ran a finger down the tiny cheek of her child ever so softly, and smiled. She already felt like she loved her. She had never felt so connected to another person - not her parents, not Christopher, nobody. "I mean, naturally, we need to have a democracy here. I can't just force you to do something you don't want to do. And I can't force a name on you. So, is Lorelai going to be your name too?"

The baby's face changed. It turned into what looked very much like a smile. 'Surely not,' she thought, just before the baby let out a burp.

Lorelai laughed. "So, having gas is funny to you, huh? I am so going to have to change that way of thinking. Should I take that as a 'yes', though?"

A tiny mewl came from her daughter, and it was agreed. Their first democratic decision as mother and daughter was to agree on a name. Lorelai smiled, satisfied, at the outcome. She ran her hand over the sprinkling of dark brown hair that graced Baby Lorelai's head.

There was a knock at the door, and Yvonne poked her head in. "Your parents want to see you."

Lorelai made a face, and shook her head.

Yvonne gave her a stern look. "Honey, they've been waiting out there for five hours. Let them see their granddaughter."

Lorelai sighed. "Fine." She hugged the baby to her chest and whispered, "I'm so sorry in advance."

The door swung wide open, and Emily burst in the room, quietly followed by Richard. "There you are, young lady. We've been waiting for hours! It is extremely rude to not accept visitors when they request to see you."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "I fell asleep, mother. I hadn't slept in almost three days, okay?" she huffed.

"We hadn't finished our discussion about you leaving the house without telling me you were in labor," Emily reminded.

Richard put a hand on her shoulder. "I hardly think that is important now, Emily. Now, Lorelai are you going to let us meet our grandchild?"

Lorelai hesitated before turning Baby Lorelai around so the two adults could see her.

"What's its' name?" Emily prompted slightly condescendingly.

Lorelai looked down at her daughter, seeking strength from her innocent face. "Lorelai," she informed her parents, without looking up.

"A girl," Richard breathed.

Emily pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "Are you sure?" Lorelai nodded emphatically, and Emily sighed. "I suppose we can tell people she is named for her great-grandmother," she suggests, "but you'll have to give her a nickname or it will be awfully confusing around the house."

Lorelai looked up at her mother, trying to keep down that anger that her mother was still trying to control every aspect of her life. "I was going to do that," she snapped. "I'm going to call her... Lory - no, that's too girlie. Rory." She smiled, deciding that the nickname suited the baby perfectly.

"Rory," Emily tested. "I guess that's acceptable."

Lorelai rolled her eyes at the idea that she would give her parents any say at all in what she named her child. "I'm really tired. I think I'm going to have a nap now," she told her parents, hoping they would take the hint and leave.

Emily sighed. "I suppose we should go home and get cleaned up also."

"Don't hurry back," Lorelai muttered as they left the room.

Yvonne came back in and walked over to the bed. "Your mother said you were planning on sleeping for a while. I can take the little one back to the nursery."

"Um... thanks."

"So, do we have a name yet?" Yvonne asked as she placed Rory back in her bassinet, and she stroked her little hand.

Lorelai smiled as she looked at her daughter. "Yeah... Lorelai. Rory for short."

"That's lovely," Yvonne mused. "Is there anything else you want before your nap?"

Lorelai looked at her nervously. "Can I use the phone?" she asked softly.

Yvonne looked at the girl sympathetically. "Sure, honey."

* * *

Lorelai took a deep breath before dialling the last number. Her heart was hammering, and she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, building up for a fight.

The maid answered. "Hayden Residence."

"Yes, can I please speak to Christopher?"

"Who can I say is speaking, please?"

"Tracey," Lorelai told her, knowing her own name might result in a 'he's not home'.

"Just one minute."

"Hello?" Christopher sounded confused.

"Hey, it's me."

"Oh, hey!" His tone changed to surprise. "How are you?"

"How am I?" She couldn't believe he could be so casual. "How am I? Funnily enough, I'm so angry I might turn into The Hulk. Where have you been, Chris?"

"Huh? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" she repeated. "What's wrong is I rang you 24 hours ago saying I was at the hospital, and you never came!" She resisted the urge to say 'dirty'.

"What? You're at the hospital? What happened?"

"I had the baby, you idiot. And you weren't here." She struggled to keep back the tears.

"Oh." He didn't sound overly upset. "Wait, did you say you called?"

"Don't act all innocent. Your mom promised she would tell you."

Christopher sighed. "I'm sorry Lor. She didn't tell me. I'll be there soon, okay?"

* * *

Lorelai dreamed of the night that Rory had been conceived. Every detail, right up until her gastro-intestinal pyrotechnics, was perfectly clear. She could see Christopher's face as he looked down at her. She remembered feeling a slight pain, and that he didn't notice her grimacing. She could recall an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach as he rolled away, stroking her arm rhythmically, but leaving her cold and exposed to the elements. She dreams of the forced smile she directed in her boyfriends direction.

"Lor.... Lor....." Chris shook her awake.

"Argh..." She groaned, cursing silently whoever had woken her up from her sleep. She wrenched open her eyes to confront the sadist. "Chris..."

"Hey. Hows my girl?"

She yawned. "Who? Me, or Rory?"

Christopher did a double-take. "It's a girl? I have a daughter?"

Lorelai nodded. "Yeah. Rory."

He took a deep breath. "Rory." He tested the name on his tongue.

"You wanna see her?"

"Yeah, sure."

Lorelai led the way down the corridor to the nursery where she pointed Rory out to Christopher through the glass. She watched her sleep, and tried to comprehend how something so small and innocent could cause so much pain.

"She's pretty," he told her.

"She's perfect," she corrected him, unable to take her gaze off the child.

"I guess we should get married then," he told her, resignation obvious in his voice. He continued staring straight ahead. Lorelai could see that his line of sight wasn't even on Rory - he was just looking at the glass in front of him - 'probably at his own reflection,' she thought cynically.

"Well, isn't that the proposal that every girl dreams about?" she muttered.

He turned towards her. "Come on, Lor. Don't make this harder than it is. You know as well as I do that this is the right thing to do."

"Do you hear yourself?" she scoffed, her voice raising with each word. "Proposing to someone shouldn't be hard. You shouldn't sound like you're being sent to death row. That should tip you off straight away that we shouldn't do it."

"It's what's right. We have to do this. Do you realize what society will think if we don't?"

"Oh my God, Chris. You are sounding way too much like my mother right now. We're sixteen. I don't want to get married right now, okay?"

"But..."

Lorelai looked him directly in the eye. "No, Chris. You need to finish school. Go to college. Backpack around Europe. Then we can have this discussion." She was proud of her ability to stay calm, even in her sleep-deprived state.

"Fine," he yelled, his sudden change of mood startling her. "Be sure to send a photo of her at Christmas or something. Have a nice life, Lorelai." He stormed off down the hall.

Panicked, Lorelai ignored the tiredness and incredible pain she felt, and ran down the corridor after him. She caught up just as he was pressing the button to call the elevator.

"What the hell, Christopher?" she stormed.

He didn't look at her, just kept staring at the doors, waiting for them to open.

"No. This is not over. You don't just walk out like that." She grabbed his arm, and pulled him towards her room. He resisted initially, but capitulated to her desperate tugging after a few seconds. As the door swung shut behind them, she rounded on him. "What do you mean 'have a nice life'?"

Christopher shrugged.

"Are you saying that you're walking out on us.... now? After everything? I thought you loved me?"

"I do love you."

"Then why the hell are you leaving us?"

"You said it yourself. You don't want me to marry you. You told me to go and have a normal life. I'm doing what you told me to, Lor."

Her face crumpled in confusion. "Why does it have to be all or nothing? Huh? Things aren't always so black and white. There are, like, a million shades of grey in between."

Christopher took a deep breath. "Maybe for you there are. Not for me. I can do the getting-married-happy-families thing. I would do that, because that is what is expected of me. Or I can do the finish-school-backpack-round-Europe thing. But both of those lives need 100 percent. I can't do either one half-way. There is no middle ground here, Lor. If I am going to be a kid, then I need to be a kid. I can't go backpacking round Europe, and be a dad at the same time. The two lives just don't mix. It's too hard." He went quiet and looked at the ground. "It's too much. This is all just too much, Lor. I'm sorry." He made his way to the door.

Tears streamed down Lorelai's face, urged on by the erratic hormones coursing through her, and she was too tired to wipe them away, or to even try to stop them coming. "Please Chris."

He looked at her tear-soaked face. "Do you want to get married or not?"

She knew he was giving her a way to make him stay. She knew that one little word, and he would look after her and Rory forever. She considered lying - saying 'yes' now, and then talking him around later on. But she looked at him, and all she could see was a scared 16-year-old boy.

"No," she whispered.

Without another word, he walked away from her. He walked out of her hospital room, and away from her and their child. He walked away from the years they had spent together - the life they had conjured by their shared need for escape. He walked away.

And he didn't say goodbye to either of them.


	16. Baby's First Present

*****Baby's First Present*****

"Please go to sleep, Sweets. You know you're tired. Come on, please," Lorelai begged her three week old daughter, leaning over the white frilly crib.

Rory just wiggled some more, and burst into another round of crying.

"It's okay, it's okay," she cried, picking up the screaming baby. She sat down in her armchair, rubbing the tiny back.

It was all so overwhelming. Rory hadn't slept since the morning before - which in turn meant that Lorelai hadn't slept either in 27 hours and counting. Lorelai had compromised with Emily on the nanny issue, and had hired someone look after Rory during the nights. Four days ago, however, Melinda's grandmother had died, and she had gone home to Maine to be with her family.

As tiredness and frustration overtook Lorelai, she felt the hot sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. She angrily wiped them away, and tried to focus again on getting Rory to sleep.

Her attention was drawn to the pile of picture books lying on top of the bookcase next to her. She picked one up at random, and began to read, trying to keep her voice soothing.

"The Very Hungry Caterpillar," she began, juggling the baby and the book. "In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf." She pointed to the picture of the egg, not knowing whether Rory would even be able to see it. "One Sunday, the warm sun came up, and POP!..."

Much to her surprise, Rory stopped crying almost as soon as the story began, and by the time the caterpillar had eaten three plums, her soft whimpers had been replaced with the deep breathing of sleep. Lorelai's face was the perfect picture of shock. If you had looked 'shock' up in the dictionary, this expression would have been etched there in all its' black and white glory.

Trying not to disturb the sleeping baby, Lorelai rose as slowly as possible and carefully placed Rory in her crib. As soon as she was down, Lorelai collapsed on her own bed, and was asleep in seconds.

* * *

Lorelai was awoken by a crying Rory two hours later. She groaned loudly, and pulled the pillow over her head, willing the noise to go away. When it didn't cease after two minutes, she reluctantly wrenched herself off her bed, and picked up her child.

"Honey, I get that you miss me after a couple of hours, because I miss you too, but Mommy needs a bit more sleep than that." She carried Rory downstairs, and put a bottle in the microwave. Rory continued to sob. "Yeah, I know you're hungry. You just need to wait... 1 minute and 15 seconds more." She rubbed her daughter's back softly. "One minute, five seconds."

The current maid, Jocelyn, hurried into the kitchen, a harried expression on her face. Emily's voice could be heard faintly from the back yard. Jocelyn was imitating Emily's scolding under her breath, making Lorelai giggle. It was at that noise that Jocelyn realized that she wasn't alone.

"Oh!" she jumped. "I'm sorry, Miss Gilmore." She started to back out of the room, before Lorelai stopped her.

"No, keep going. Ignore me. I know better than to get between Emily Gilmore and her housekeeping aspirations."

The microwave dinged, and Lorelai took the bottle, and settled on the living room couch to feed Rory. The french doors opened, and Emily swanned into the room, doing a double-take when she saw the girls before her.

"Oh, Lorelai. Melinda called, and she will be back in two days."

"Okay." She kept her concentration trained on Rory.

"And I'm hosting an afternoon tea today for the DAR.... so it would be appreciated if..." Emily seemed to stumble over her words, unsure how Emily Post would word this request.

Lorelai sighed. "I'll make myself scarce."

Half an hour later, after a good meal and a diaper change, Rory seemed ready to sleep again. Once she was down, Lorelai took the opportunity to take a shower - the first she had had in three days.

As she stepped out of the warm shower, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. What she saw horrified her. She had thought that once the baby was born, she would look the same as she did before all this mess happened. That idea couldn't be further from the truth. Her stomach was flabby, and sported several stretch marks on the sides. Her thighs had increased in size seemingly exponentially, and her breasts still hadn't lost their pregnancy fullness, even though she wasn't nursing. She had dreamt for months about the day she would be able to wear her normal, fashionable clothes again, and still, three weeks after giving birth, she was barely able to squeeze into a size eight. The size six outfits which filled her closet were still hanging unused, unloved, never knowing when they would be worn again.

She took her forefinger, and poked her fleshy belly, watching in horror as her finger disappeared half-way before being met with resistance. She slapped her once perfect thigh, and watched as it jiggled for almost two full seconds before coming to a halt.

As she dressed, she split her attention between her unrecognizable body, and the white crib sitting in the corner. "Seriously, kid. You are going to owe me big time for this. You cannot imagine how much I am being bummed out right now." No contrite expression came from the crib.

In an brief flash of inspiration, she remembered seeing a video tape at the rental place called _Jane Fonda's Pregnancy, Birth and Recovery Workout_. At the time, she had scoffed at the idea that she would ever need such a tape, but now it seemed like a great idea. Not that she relished the idea of prancing around in a leotard like some Olivia Newton John wannabe, valiantly trying in vain to recapture her pre-baby waistline, but something needed to be done. How would Rick Springfield agree to ditch his singing career and be her boyfriend when she looked like a sack of potatoes?

As she pulled on a faded denim jacket over her pink leggings and green turtleneck, she made a decision. She was going to join a gym. It seemed preposterous - Lorelai Gilmore being seen within 50 yards of anything athletic - but her newfound hatred of her current look had sparked her to drastic measures.

* * *

Lorelai exited the gym, pushing the stroller, a shiny new card gracing her wallet. She glanced back at the entrance with suspicion, wondering how they had convinced her to sign up for a twelve month contract. The women in there had been so scary with their perfect thighs and their exceedingly high-cut leotards. The idea of voluntarily going to that place several times a week made her shudder.

She popped in to a coffee shop for a takeaway cup, to sustain her for the cold walk home. The snow hadn't started to fall yet, but the temperature had raised ever so slightly, indicating that the white stuff wasn't far away. Rory was sound asleep, wrapped up like an eskimo in the stroller, as she sipped the beverage slowly. As she turned the corner, she suddenly came to a halt, causing a little splash of coffee to fall on her coat. Right in front of her was a group of girls - girls who had been her friends until this year. She tried to turn the stroller around and leave before they saw her, but she wasn't fast enough. The stroller wasn't cooperating.

"Lorelai," Tracey called, her voice as fake as Dolly Parton's chest.

Lorelai cringed, and turned back to face the girls. Her textbook faux smile was plastered onto her face quickly. "Hey."

Tracey tipped her head sideways. "I didn't know you were a free woman again. When did you drop it?"

"She," she emphasized the pronoun, "was born three weeks ago."

Victoria stepped forward to peer into the stroller. "You are SO missing the best year ever. Junior year is SO bitchin'."

Lorelai smiled politely at her former friend. "Aces."

"Oh, yeah. Fully," Amanda piped in. "Except for that new Physics teacher. He is so heinous. Gave us a huge assignment on the first day back!"

"Uh huh," Lorelai glanced around, trying to find as escape route.

"So..." Tracey held up a hand to indicate to her minions that it was her turn to talk. "Why haven't you come back? Shouldn't the nanny be all over this thing?"

"Uh... no. The nanny's only part-time. I look after her most of the time."

"So you're doing the whole Edna Garrett thing yourself? How... vintage."

"Blue collar, I would've said," one of the girls at the back muttered, but was heard very clearly by everyone. A few snickers rang out around the group.

"What's Chris doing? Where's he nowadays?"

Lorelai took a subtle breath before answering as casually as possible. "Uh.. he's at St Sebastians."

"Ooo. All those Sebastians girls are so easy. You better keep an eye on him!" Victoria laughed.

Lorelai kept a straight face. "Not my problem anymore. He can do whatever - or whoever - he likes."

That shut the girls up quickly. A few sent Lorelai pitying looks, while the others looked desperate to change the subject. Lorelai didn't want their pity, so was eager to leave.

"We're just going to the movies - Nightmare on Elm Street is out. You wanna come?" Tracey asked her.

"Uh, thanks," Lorelai replied, "but we need to get home. Don't want Rory to catch a cold."

"Sure, maybe another time."

Lorelai struggled to manoeuvre the stroller around the girls, and make her way home. As soon as she crossed the street, she heard them burst out laughing, a cackling sound which grated on her nerves. There wasn't any question as to what they were laughing about.

Rory was just starting to wake up, squirming in her confined position. "Please, Rory. Don't be anything like those girls when you get bigger."

Rory responded by drooling, and blowing bubbles.

Lorelai laughed. "Look at you!" she exclaimed. "It took me months to master the whole Hubba Bubba thing." The thought of bubble gum made her crave it intensely. Stopping on the sidewalk for a second, she searched the bottom of the baby bag that was hanging from the stroller handle until she found what she was looking for.

"Ah ha!" she cried, pulling the Bubble Gum flavored Lip Smacker out. She smeared some over her lips, and leaned down to where Rory stared up at her with big blue eyes. "You want some too?" She placed a tiny spot of gloss onto Rory's lips. At the strange taste, Rory crinkled her nose, and dribbled some more, causing more laughter from her mother.

They took a short-cut through a deserted park - one of the few places in suburban Hartford where you couldn't see any buildings, or hear the traffic, and Lorelai felt relaxed. The feeling of being away from the city made her feel happy - like all the stress and angst of the last year hadn't happened. She was content to just be - all she needed was this feeling, and Rory by her side. She instantly forgot her chance meeting with her old friends, and Christopher's abandonment. None of that mattered.

She took a deep breath, taking in the crisp November air like a junkie.

"I can smell it," she told Rory. She closed her eyes momentarily, enjoying the delicious pre-snow feeling.

Just as she opened her eyes, she looked at Rory, and saw a look of shock on her little face as the first snowflake of the winter landed directly on the baby's nose.

A huge grin came over Lorelai's face as the flakes started to fall.

"It's your first snow, baby," she whispered, and continued on her way home. "It's a present just for us."


	17. Three Lorelais and a Crystal Turkey Walk

*****Three Lorelais and a Crystal Turkey Walk into a Bar*****

The day had turned freakishly cold. Lorelai shivered as she closed the door behind her, and surveyed the living room. Emily had gone all out this year. Autumnal foliage graced every possible surface, oblivious to the light layer of snow in the courtyard outside. There was a fancy crystal turkey on the coffee table, which looked more expensive than everything Lorelai owned. She made a mental note not to go anywhere near that table while the turkey was still sitting there. She was bound to knock it over, and that would be more than her life was worth.

She wandered through to the dining room, and saw the four neatly set places at the vast table. The perfection of it all was perturbing. There was nothing perfect about this family, so why bother with this silly façade? Of the diners tonight, there were only two pairs who actually liked each other - Emily and Richard, and Richard and his mother. All other pairings were entrenched in a cold war. Lorelai moved towards the table, and repositioned the centerpiece an inch to the left. She had been doing this all afternoon, every time her mother was out of sight. It gave her a small satisfaction to see Emily going slowly insane, thinking that the Horn of Plenty floral arrangement was moving by itself.

Lorelai trudged up the two flights of stairs prepared to forge ahead with the second war of the day with Emily. Three times today she had come into the nursery to find Rory wearing an over-the-top frilly white dress. And three times today, Lorelai had stripped her out of the princess dress, and back into the plain blue onesie she had chosen this morning. As expected, Rory lay quietly on her back adorned in what could only be described as a meringue, staring at the mobile Lorelai had made. It featured pictures of each member of The Bangles, and was accompanied by the Bangles cassette which was in the tape player next to the crib.

Lorelai picked up the cooing child, and cradled her protectively to her chest. "I'm so sorry, baby. I would be super-mondo annoyed if I had to change outfits seven times in a day, but we cannot let your grandmother win. It's like training a dog. If you repeat the punishment over and over, eventually, they'll learn that the behavior isn't acceptable."

She placed Rory down on the changing table, and held her there with one hand, as she searched through the laundry basket with the other. "What kind of dog do you think she is?" Lorelai asked in a soothing voice. "I think she's a Rottweiler." She groaned as she came up empty-handed from the laundry basket, and realized that Emily had hidden the offending onesie in the laundry room instead of throwing it back in the basket. She pulled a new one out of the drawer. This one was pink, and said 'I love my Mommy' on the front. Satisfied, she changed the wet diaper, and pulled the new outfit over Rory's head with minimal trouble. Six weeks of practice dressing a squirming baby was paying off.

Lorelai carried Rory in one arm, and a tri-pillow and blanket in the other, and gingerly made her way down the steep stairs. She had slipped last week - her socks not having any grip on the old carpeting - and had been thanking every lucky star she knew that she had managed to keep hold of Rory in her fall. She had ended up with a bruised tailbone and a near-stroke, and she was not in any hurry to repeat the performance. They made it down to the living room without major incident, and Lorelai busied herself with a make-shift bed for Rory on the couch.

Emily entered the room, and started to pour herself a large drink, her usually perfectly serene countenance flustered by the presence of her mother-in-law in the house. Satisfied that Rory was settled, Lorelai stood to get a bottle from the kitchen.

"Can you watch her, Mom? Make sure she doesn't try an 'Escape from Alcatraz'?" she asked as friendly as she could manage.

Emily kept her attention on pouring her drink without spilling a drop. "Really, Lorelai. She's six weeks. She's not going to be rolling anywhere." She turned to look at her daughter. "Can you please fix your dress? Your grandmother will be down any minute now, and you look like a Picasso painting."

Lorelai looked down to examine herself, and saw that her dress had indeed become slightly rumpled as she dealt to her little daughter, but it definitely wasn't the nuclear disaster that Emily was making out. She made a quick attempt to smooth a few of the creases out, and ignored any more complaints her mother could send her way.

When she returned to the living room, she stopped dead in her tracks. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she growled in a menacingly low voice. Emily had picked Rory up, and was heading towards the stairs.

"Uh... I'm just holding my granddaughter. Is that not allowed now?"

"You were going to change her, weren't you?" Lorelai accused, and the flash of guilt that crossed Emily's face was all she needed.

"No...." Emily tried to sit in the armchair as if nothing was wrong.

"She is not wearing that ugly froofy dress, Mother."

Emily acted affronted. "Well, this is definitely not a suitable outfit for Thanksgiving Dinner," she huffed.

Lorelai scoffed. "Thanksgiving Dinner? How involved do you see her being in this dinner of yours? She'll have a bottle and then have a nap. Not exactly the most exciting of dinner guests." She stalked over to where Emily was sitting, intent on retrieving her daughter, when Rory responded with the most appropriate act. She spit up, all over the front of Emily's brand new suit.

Lorelai tried to hide her giggles, but was defeated quickly.

Emily's face turned red, and she thrust the baby towards Lorelai and stormed up the stairs to change.

Richard was escorting Trix down the stairs at that moment.

"Emily!" Trix scolded. "You seem to have soiled your blazer. I do hope that you plan on replacing it with a clean one before we eat."

Emily was stopped in her tracks at the sound of her mother-in-law's voice. "Yes, Mom," she replied meekly, and scurried up the stairs before any more retorts could be thrown her way.

"Lorelai!" Trix greeted as she made it into the living room, and took her place in the armchair Emily had recently vacated. "You weren't here to greet me when I arrived earlier. That wasn't very hospitable of you."

"Sorry, Gran." She tried to give her grandmother the attention she craved while still watching Rory drink. "Rory was napping, so I was taking the opportunity to take a bath."

"Very well," Trix accepted. "I suppose I shall have to wait to be introduced to my great-granddaughter. Named after myself, I hear tell."

Lorelai smiled politely as she lied through her teeth. "Yes, of course, Gran. I couldn't think of a stronger namesake for her."

Trix raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that no such thoughts would have crossed the young mother's mind at the time of naming the child. She accepted a drink from Richard without acknowledgment, and took a sip before turning to her son, who was just in the process of seating himself. "Does Lorelai not receive a drink, Richard?"

Richard looked between his daughter and his mother nervously. "Trix, Lorelai is still very much under-age. She could have a soda perhaps."

"Nonsense!" Trix exclaimed. "I believe that Lorelai has proven to everyone that she is no longer a child. Just look at what she thought herself old enough to do." She pointed with her chin towards Rory. "Give the girl a glass of champagne."

Lorelai tried to protest. "No, really. I..." She was silenced with a stern look. She accepted the glass her father offered apprehensively. She had never openly drunk alcohol in front of her parents.

"So, Lorelai. Who is the father of this... offspring... of yours?" Trix had an amused expression on her face. "Or is that an unknown entity?"

Lorelai fought to stay calm at the insult, and bowed her head. "Christopher Hayden, ma'am."

Trix mused on this. "Hayden? Hmmm.... And will he be joining us tonight?"

"No, ma'am. Chris has decided her won't be actively involved in Rory's life." She didn't raise her head, afraid of the reaction this comment would receive.

"That's preposterous! Of course he should be involved. Was he not involved in the creation of the child? He should have married you."

Richard placed a calming hand on his mother's arm. "Christopher did propose," he explained. "Lorelai turned him down."

Trix became instantly silent as she considered this piece of information. She watched her granddaughter interact with the baby from across the room, unsure as to what she made of the situation. She knew society expected that the two teenagers should be betrothed, but somehow it didn't seem horrible that this hadn't occurred. She had met the Hayden boy previously, and thought him a weak thing, regardless of his obvious good looks. In Lorelai, she saw strength - an obvious Gilmore trait, not inherited from her mother. It took great courage to choose to raise a child alone. Courage she herself possessed. She could see a long hard road ahead, but if anyone was of the right stock to succeed on that road, it was a Gilmore.

Emily descended the stairs in a new suit, and surveyed the room, smiling at her husband and Trix.

"Emily, are you happy with the decoration in here?" Trix asked, a glint in her eyes.

Emily smiled. "Yes, I am quite satisfied."

Trix chuckled. "Good to see your taste hasn't improved at all since I last saw you. This crystal bird is of quite atrocious taste."

Lorelai stifled a giggle as she moved to burp Rory.


	18. Celebrations and Provocations

**A/N: **Happy New Years everyone!!

*****Celebrations and Provocations*****

Lorelai leant over the crib in the nursery watching Rory sleep. She had been doing this more and more often in the last couple of weeks. Her tiny breaths made her chest rise and fall rhythmically. Although Lorelai knew that she was slightly biased, she had come to the conclusion that this was the most beautiful baby in New England. Her mahogany brown hair sat in little wisps across her head, and her bright blue eyes had a way of staring deep into your soul. Even at two months old, Rory constantly seemed to be thinking about all the world's problems.

"She's been perfect, like always," Melinda informed her as she swept around the room quietly. She had a way of looking graceful even while cleaning the nursery. "She ate at midnight, and again at three, so she'll be hungry again soon."

Lorelai smiled as she caressed Rory's cheek with a careful, gentle finger. "Thanks. Oh, by the way, would you mind coming in a bit earlier tonight? My parents are having their annual Christmas party, and I'll have to be downstairs the whole night."

"Yeah, sure. What time do you need me?"

"Um... about 6:30?"

Melinda nodded absently. "Isn't it a bit early in the month to be having a Christmas party?"

Lorelai laughed. "Don't even get me started. I've asked that question every year since I could read a calendar."

Melinda chuckled. "So this has been going on for a while then?"

"Yeah, I think Fred and Wilma came to the first one."

A noise came from the crib as Rory started to wake up. "It's okay, my darling. Mommy's here." Lorelai picked Rory up and hugged her to her chest. "Guess what, little one? Today is a very happy, happy day. Today is more important than Christmas and Easter combined. It's right up there with your birthday. Today is Apple Tart Day!"

Rory gurgled, the sound muffled by Lorelai's sweatshirt.

"She'll miss you while you're at your party," Melinda told her quietly, trying her hardest not to sound judgemental.

Lorelai sighed. "There is no possible way I'll get out of this though. Right up there with Satan putting in an ice rink in his backyard. Looking after the baby? Not a good enough excuse. When I was in fifth grade, I had the German Measles, and I still had to suffer through five courses of Christmas celebrations."

"Only five courses?" Melinda asked, the sarcastic tone in her voice evident as far away as Chicago.

Lorelai chuckled as she rocked Rory slowly. "Well, yeah. Just before dessert was served, I threw up all over Emily's fine Egyptian Cotton tablecloth. Otherwise it would have been six - plus post-dinner drinks."

Melinda shook her head, laughing. "I doubt Mrs Gilmore would have been too pleased about that."

"Nope. I was grounded until New Years." She leaned down towards Rory, who was now watching the conversation as if she understood every word. "Make the most of this year, hon. 'Cause you'll be subjected to the Christmas Party every year for the rest of your existence. And as much as we love love love the Apple Tarts, it doesn't quite make up for the tedium of the party itself."

"Sounds thrilling. I won't have any qualms about staying up here the whole time, then."

* * *

Lorelai could feel her heart beating right out of her chest as she strapped Rory into the car-seat in the back of the towncar. She took several deep breaths to try and calm it down. After telling the driver the address, she settled herself into the seat next to the baby. Rory seemed to be watching her suspiciously.

"Don't look at me like that," Lorelai scolded. "I know what you're thinking. But I've known him since we were six. I can't just ignore his birthday." She clutched the gift in her hands tighter.

Rory didn't avert her gaze.

"Hey," Lorelai protested. "It's not that big a deal. He came to see you on your birthday. It's only polite to return the courtesy. Even if he doesn't want to see us, we can just leave this gift, and go home again. No biggie."

Lorelai looked out the window, and slumped down in her seat, knowing that she was seeing Rory as her conscience, and this little angel on her shoulder was right. She shouldn't turn up on the Hayden's doorstep - especially unannounced. But she couldn't help herself. The last time she had missed seeing Chris on his birthday was when they were 11, and his family had taken him out of school and gone to Barbados for vacation. Now they were forever inextricably linked, and she was determined to prove to him that she still cared, no matter how much he had broken her heart.

The driver cleared his throat politely, breaking her out of her reverie. "We're here, Miss Gilmore."

"Thank you. We won't be long." She pulled Rory out of her seat, and balanced her on her hip as she slung the baby bag over the other shoulder and picked up the gift. She stared at the house she knew so well. She wasn't sure she would even get past the threshold this time, and she sure as hell couldn't climb the tree like she used to.

She determinedly strode up the walk and rang the doorbell, trying not to think of the rejection which surely greeted her on the other side.

A smile was plastered on her face as the door was pulled open by the maid. "I'm here to see Christopher," she announced, and the maid ushered her inside.

"If you'll kindly wait here, I'll fetch him for you." And she scampered off up the stairs.

A voice echoed down the hall from the kitchen, getting closer and closer. "Well I don't see why it's a problem, Straub. He's already been given the silly new car. If he doesn't want to go out to dinner, that's fine. We can get on with our lives." There was an air of contempt in her voice. She entered the foyer, on her way to the living room, and came to a shocked halt. "Lorelai. What are you doing here?" She glared first at Lorelai then at Rory in her arms.

Lorelai shrugged, and indicated towards the present with her chin. "It's Chris's birthday? You get older, you get a gift. It's like the law, or something."

Francine scowled at the visitor. "Well, that is true, indeed. But the gift law is generally only applicable for those whom the birthday boy is in contact with."

Lorelai let out a scoff perceptible to not only the two women standing there in the foyer, but also to Christopher, who was standing halfway down the staircase observing the interaction. His face spread into a sly grin. "But Mother, I have received gifts from aunts and cousins I haven't seen in years. I only saw Lorelai and Rory two months ago. Surely they have a better claim to present-giving status than those obscure family members."

Francine gave a last dirty look to the two girls, and spun on her heel, leaving the two teenagers. "Don't visit for too long," she left a passing dig over her shoulder. "I'm sure that _child_ will be needing a nap in the not too distant future."

Christopher slowly descended that last few stairs, to come face to face with his daughter and her mother. "Why are you here?" he asked trying not to stare too long at Rory.

"Uh... well.... you know. Seventeen is an important milestone..."

"So you thought you'd make the day miserable for me?"

"What? No... I brought you a present. It's not much. My allowance has been slashed considerably. How does that make you miserable?"

Christopher looked her up and down slowly. "Because I've spent this whole time trying to get over you, and now you just come to my house like we hadn't agreed that this was for the best. That's not fair, Lor."

She sighed. "I know. I just... I don't know. Even if you're off at St Sebastians, having that normal life, finding yourself, whatever..."

Christopher interrupted. "St Sybills now."

"...I still care. I wanted you to have this." She handed him the roughly wrapped box. He pulled the ribbon off and revealed a photo of Rory. "Just, so you remember that she'll always be your daughter, and when you're ready, we'll be here."

The look on Christopher's face resembled shock. He nodded slowly.

She smiled. "At the hospital, you did say I should send a photo at Christmas. I'm just hand delivering it."

He stepped forward and placed a hand on Rory's head, stroking her hair. "Thanks, Lor."

She slapped on a fake smile for him. "Now, I hear you got a new car."

"Yeah, a Jag this time."

"So, take that out for a spin, cruise for chicks, whatever it is seventeen year old guys do. Your mom's right. We need to get home soon." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. She escaped back to the car before he could say anything more.

As they drove down the block, back towards the Gilmore house, she turned to Rory. "Okay. You were right. This was a stupid idea. Up there with tie-dyed t-shirts."

* * *

Lorelai looked around furtively as she came back down the stairs, her Emily-approved dress billowing around her stockinged legs. Soft music was playing. It sounded like Sinatra singing Christmas carols. No member of the family was around, so she made her way towards the record player, and flipped the needle off. From under her skirt she pulled out her brand new 12 inch single, and replaced Frank with the sounds of Band Aid. The first lines came out via the voice of Paul Young. She fled to the kitchen as Emily was heard coming down the stairs, fury evident in her footsteps.

"What is this horrid noise?" she yelled. "Lorelai?"

Bono was screeching out Lorelai's favorite line when the rip of the needle being pulled off the vinyl was heard as clear as day.

"Lorelai!" Emily yelled again.

Lorelai emerged from the kitchen. "Oh Mom, don't worry that Rory just got to sleep. Feel free to scream the house down Big Bad Wolf style."

"Will you get rid of this torturous music before I get rid of it myself?"

Lorelai looked down at her mother innocently. "See, I thought that this Christmas party was a family event. Therefore, shouldn't all family members be entitled to input into some small part of the night? I chose the music. You love charities, Mom. You should love a charity record too, surely."

Emily glared at Lorelai. She lowered her voice from yelling to a growl. "Listen to me, young lady. This is my home. I have worked for 20 years to create it. I will not have you sabotaging everything I stand for. Your father and I have embraced that child of yours, and endured the shame and ridicule that your stupidity has afforded this family. As long as you live under our roof, and we feed and clothe you and Rory, you will abide by my rules. You will not ruin my party. You will act like a civilized adult. You may have chosen to destroy your future, but you will not destroy the standing that your father and I have created within this community. Do I make myself clear?"

Lorelai stared at her silently.

"Now, return my music selection, and prepare yourself for our guests. You need to learn very quickly what it means to be a good hostess, as you don't have any other prospects lined up."

Lorelai watched as her enraged mother went to yell at the terrified maid and cook, and shook her head in amazement. "As long as we live under your roof?" she muttered. "Yeah, well, what would you do if we didn't live under your roof? Huh?" She returned Frank to his rightful place on the turntable, and stomped up the stairs with her own record, anger at the injustice seething through her.

The stress of duelling with her mother on a daily basis was wearing her thin, and her constant frustration must be having an effect on Rory. Lorelai couldn't stand that thought. She wanted to do whatever it took to make her baby happy. But to what lengths would she need to go to do that?


	19. Resolutions

****Resolutions*****

"No!" Lorelai screamed at her mother. "It's not your decision to make!"

Emily walked away from her daughter, and continued up to the nursery.

"Mother! Will you listen to me?"

Emily spun on her heel, and glared at Lorelai who was standing two stairs below her. "She is my granddaughter, and I pay for her upkeep. I am taking her to my meeting."

"No! She is MY daughter, not yours, and she is staying right here, with me - her MOTHER!" Lorelai's face screwed up into an entirely unattractive shape, and went bright red with anger.

Emily's demeanour became deathly calm. She gave an evil little smile in the direction of Lorelai, and took a deep breath before continuing on her way up the stairs. "I am going to take her to my meeting. The ladies are just dying to see her. Why don't you call up your friends and go shopping?"

Lorelai glared at the retreating figure. Emily knew perfectly well that Lorelai didn't have any real friends anymore. Her ostracism was complete among the Hartford society children. "Oh, you're a funny, funny woman, Emily Gilmore. You're funnier than Steve Martin on the Tonight Show." She stood impotently at the base of the staircase, unsure what to do. Should she run up to the nursery, and forcibly stop Emily from taking Rory? But on the other hand, would it really hurt for Emily to get a few minutes to show off her granddaughter? At least, Lorelai thought, her mother was taking somewhat of an interest in the baby which had caused so much trouble for their family.

She took a deep breath before running up the two flights of stairs, confronting her mother in the nursery. She stood stock-still in the doorway. "Please Mom," she pleaded, her eyes wide. "Please respect my wishes. I don't want her to be paraded around like a prize pooch. I don't want that for her." She closed her eyes briefly in contemplation, reliving the moments of her life that she had despised - all the frilly party dresses; the lonely nights sitting in the corner of a black tie event; the times she had been dismissed by her parents for yet another social engagement. She desperately wanted her own child to be happy in her childhood, and to feel loved.

Emily scoffed loudly. "You are the most ungrateful child, Lorelai. Your father and I have given you the best of everything, and all you want is to disrespect us and our world. You disappoint me."

"For a change," Lorelai grumbled under her breath. Being polite obviously wasn't making any headway with her mother, so Lorelai gave in to her initial urge. She stormed over to the crib and held out her arms to Emily, who had just pulled Rory out. "Hand her over. Now," she demanded. "I am her mother, and I don't want her going. You can show your friends photos of your fake progeny."

Emily glared, knowing that in any court of law, she didn't have a leg to stand on. The glare turned into a glint. "Your father and I could adopt Rory. Then you could go back to school, and have your old life back," she suggested.

Lorelai shook her head in disgust. "Don't be ridiculous. I love her. There is no way in hell I'm giving her up."

Emily sighed as her last ditch effort to gain control of the child fell by the wayside. She handed Rory to Lorelai, and stormed out of the room, stopping at the doorway momentarily. "Oh, and Lorelai... make sure you are both ready to go at 6 o'clock sharp."

Lorelai turned to her in confusion. "Go where?"

"To the Feildburgs' New Years Eve party, of course." She waved her hand casually as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"No."

"Yes," Emily corrected. "This is not negotiable. You live in this house. You are part of this family. This family is going together to the party. It is New Years Eve. A new beginning. Hopefully 1985 will be less eventful than 1984. I expect you to be downstairs, dressed appropriately, at six. Goodbye."

Lorelai sighed as she examined the serene face of her daughter. Well, she thought, at least I won one fight today.

* * *

Against her better judgement, Lorelai and Rory were in the living room at precisely 6 o'clock. Rory wore an Emily-approved pink dress, which was just simple enough to please Lorelai also. Lorelai wore a blue knee length off-the-shoulder satin dress with only one tulle petticoat. She had originally bought it to wear to the Spring dance, but with a slight adjustment around the waist and bust, it now fit her post-baby body.

The girls sat silently on the couch, Rory in Lorelai's lap, waiting for Richard and Emily to stop the fight they were currently engaged in.

The words drifted down the stairs.

"Of course, they're coming, Richard. This is my first chance to show off that little girl. I need to regain some modicum of dignity in this scandal, and that beautiful child will help boost my standing. You do remember that I have been served the last cup of tea ever since the gossip leaked out."

"Yes, dear," Richard sighed. "But are you sure that it will help? Won't it just remind all our friends of Lorelai's predicament, and cause even more whispering behind martini glasses?"

"No. Now, Richard, please fix your tie. It's completely askew."

There was light rumbling and then the two appeared in the stairwell.

"Hey, they think you're pretty, kid," Lorelai whispered to Rory. "Ten weeks, and you've already taken my spot."

Rory gurgled in response.

"Well, hurry up, Lorelai," Emily huffed, as if it was she, and not Lorelai, who had been waiting for ten minutes. "We don't want to be late. We'll miss the toasts."

"Yes Mother," Lorelai replied sickly sweet, a fake smile on her face.

* * *

Lorelai cringed as she entered the Fieldburg Mansion, and saw several faces she knew from school. She quickly glanced around, but to her disappointment, none of the Haydens seemed to be present. She handed off her coat to the maid, and set off to find a suitably private spot to situate herself for the night. Before she could complete her search, however, Emily grabbed her arm.

"You are coming around to greet my friends, Lorelai. Bring the baby with you. And you WILL be charming. Do you hear me?"

Lorelai sighed. "Whatever."

The only saving grace she found from this arrangement was that she would be spared the humiliation of an encounter similar to a few weeks ago in town.

Every meeting of Emily's friends was the same.

"Oh, isn't she just darling," Mrs Gilbertson gushed. "I'm sure Straub and Francine must adore her also."

Lorelai looked at the floor, and Emily, ever the perfect conversationalist, changed the subject quickly. "She's already advanced for her age. The paediatrician says he's never seen one like her."

"Oh, is that so," Mrs Gilbertson replied, well-versed in the bragging of a new mother - in this case, grandmother. Everyone thought their child was exceptional. Just last week, Jocelyn Everly had claimed her four month old could crawl.

Lorelai interrupted. "It's true. She can already roll over half-way, and hold her head up." She kept her claims quiet and small.

Emily shot her daughter a look. Even though Lorelai was now a mother herself, Emily still saw her as a child, and all children must been seen and not heard. As of yet, Rory was very good at obeying that rule. Lorelai, however, still hadn't caught on.

In an unusual sign of defiance, Rory began to squirm and fuss, making the occasional whimper.

"Uh... Mom?" Lorelai interrupted, when the conversation had turned to the latest DAR fundraiser. "I need to feed her. I'll be in the kitchen."

Emily waved her off without so much as a sideways look, and continued her conversation.

Lorelai let out a sigh of relief as she exited the suffocating room full of manners and ritual and enter the hustle and bustle of the kitchen - normally solely the domain of staff and the lady of the house. As she warmed the bottle, she tried to make herself invisible, and smiled at how happy the wait staff seemed to be. They talked about their families, and their struggle for a house. They complained about traffic tickets, and gushed about their childrens' achievements. But underneath it all, she could tell they were happy with their lot. There were no mind-numbingly boring 12 course dinners for them. They treasured their families, and friends were by choice, not obligation. She tried to smile at the younger staff, wishing that she could have just one friend like this - carefree and untainted by the world that came with Hartford money.

She groaned inwardly. If she expressed any of these desires in here, she would be met with around of "Oh! Poor little rich girl!" But she didn't want to be judged by how much money her parents had. She wanted people to like her for who she was - even if it meant not having any money at all. It was just a simple pipe-dream right now. How could she ever escape society life, when it was all she had ever known?

* * *

Lorelai stood in the Fieldburgs' courtyard as she heard the guests count down towards midnight. She glanced around, checking nobody else had joined her in the cold night air, heated by several brightly burning braziers.

A cheer went up inside, and the first strains of Auld Lang Syne rang out.

"Happy New Year, baby girl," she said softly. "I have a resolution in my head, but since it concerns you, I thought I'd run it by you first." She looked down at her daughter, and a tear fell down her cheek. It was so incredibly hard to know what was best for her. Would she be better off with the comfort and privilege that the Gilmores could provide, or would she flourish more outside that influence?

"By this time next year, I don't want to be living at home. Whether we leave together, or I end up convicted of matricide, we'll be gone. Is that okay?"

Rory stared up at her, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. The unspoken agreement seem to be sealed.


	20. Taking Care of Baby

**Taking Care of Baby**

Lorelai placed the next tape into the cassette player, and pressed play. She jumped back onto the floor, cross-legged, and thought for a moment before speaking.

"Okay. This is a group called A-Ha," she told Rory. "I think it's a bit too poppy for my taste - Synthpop seems too happy to be serious - but I've developed a strange attraction to Morten. Maybe it's the whole Nordic thing."

She tickled Rory's tummy with two fingers, and sang to her softly. _"Take on me. Take on me. Take me on. Take on me. I'll be gone in a day or two_..." she screeched out the last word, causing Rory to scrunch up her face.

"I'm sorry, kid," she laughed. "I know. Mommy can't sing." She hummed along to the rest of the song.

"Oh my God!" she squealed when the opening rift to the next song came on. "It's Madonna!"

She jumped up onto her bed, grabbed a hairbrush, and lip synced to 'Like a Virgin'. She gyrated along to the music, and jumped up and down on the bouncy bed. Halfway through, she jumped back down, landing next to Rory.

"Okay. So... some trivia for you. Madonna performed this song at the MTV Video Music Awards last year - just before you were born. I thought it was totally rad, but apparently I'm the only one. There were some moves which I hope you never, ever learn to do. Because how could such a sweet, innocent little girl have such impure thoughts, let alone act them out? You, my angel child, will always be the true virgin - much more so than Madonna. She has that whole Catholic Schoolgirl vibe going on."

As she pressed the stop button to change tapes, she heard her parents talking downstairs. With the confirmation that her father had returned from work, she picked Rory up and carried her down to the father's office, where she found him settling himself in his high-backed leather chair.

She put on her sweetest face - the one that always got her way. "Daddy?" she called, knocking softly on the door.

Richard looked at her suspiciously. "Lorelai..."

She hesitated, her toe tracing the pattern of the rug slowly. "Um... I wanted to run something by you. You know... since you're the one with the checkbook and everything..."

Richard sighed. "How much do you need?"

"I... I... don't know."

He looked at her, exasperated. "Lorelai..." he warned.

"I want to get my drivers licence," she burst out.

Richard raised his eyebrows. "My mother always said that it wasn't proper for a lady to drive themselves around," he pointed out. "And it's not like keeping a driver is a problem."

"Mom drives herself everywhere," Lorelai protested. "And I'm old enough, and..." The brainwave hit her - the match point. "Think of it from a purely monetary view, Dad. It will cost a lot less in the long-run to pay for a few lessons than it will to keep the car and driver on call. You'll most likely have your money back in a few weeks."

"It's not appropriate..." he began, to be cut off quickly.

Lorelai sent puppy-dog eyes his way. "Please, Daddy?"

"Fine. I'll talk to your mother, and get her to organize it."

Lorelai burst into a huge grin. Independence would soon be hers - transport-wise anyway. She momentarily considered hugging her father, but quickly realized the inappropriateness of such a demonstration. "Thank you, Daddy." She hugged Rory closer, and almost skipped out of the room.

* * *

Lorelai returned to the house, glee evident all over her face. As the proud owner of a brand new drivers licence, she exuded independence. She shed her coat, and stalked over to the couch in the living room, where Rory was balanced on Emily's knee, and scooped up her child.

"Thanks for babysitting, Mom," she threw over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs. She focused her attention on Rory. "Did you have a good time with Grandma?" Rory's answer seemed non-existent. "Well, of course you didn't, did you? She probably tried to train you for the cotillion in the two hours I was gone. And that could never be a pleasant experience." She ran her fingers through the baby's short dark locks, shocked when she was met with resistance.

"What the..." She looked closer, and found a dark brown ribbon tightly secured in Rory's hair. It was such a similar color to her natural hair color that it had initially gone unnoticed. She shook her head in disgust as she entered her own bedroom, and gently pried the offending hairpiece out.

"That sly, evil woman..." she commented to the room. The walls didn't answer her, and neither did Rory. The baby seemed unusually quiet. Lorelai jiggled her on her lap, trying to get a sound, a laugh, or a simple smile out of her. Instead, Rory spit up all over her mothers' shirt.

"Is that what was wrong?" Lorelai laughed. "Poor little munchkin." She hugged Rory to her shoulder, before feeling another warm stream of liquid run down her back.

"Oh, Baby," she cooed, glad she hadn't yet changed her shirt. "Are you all sicky?" Cradling Rory in her arms, being careful to avoid the earlier accident on her shirt, Lorelai frowned at her daughter. Rory's face screwed up as if she were about to start screaming, but instead of tears and cries, out came even more sick. She placed her hand against Rory's forehead, finding it slightly warm.

Lorelai's eyes widened in fear, and her heart started thumping. She was no baby expert - far from it - but this didn't seem normal. Rory hadn't ever been sick. She didn't know what to do. Frantically grabbing a cloth from her ensuite, she wiped Rory's face clean, and ran down the stairs. She searched the downstairs rooms to no avail, before finding her mother on the patio, wrapped up like an eskimo, cutting foliage for her latest centerpiece.

"Mom!" she called, and waved to her to come inside.

"In a minute, Lorelai," Emily huffed.

"Mom! Please, now!" she yelled, panic in her voice. As Emily slowly placed her tools down and came towards the house, Lorelai muttered to herself. "Oh my God. I am not equipped to handle this. What if something is seriously wrong with her?"

"What is it, Lorelai? I'm otherwise engaged at the moment." Emily closed the patio door behind her.

"She's sick," Lorelai cried. "How was she while you had her?"

Emily sighed, unhappy with her daughters' hysterics. Her eyes travelled up towards the ceiling as if she were contemplating the details of the day. "She was rather unsettled - crying a lot. So I gave her a bottle, and she calmed down significantly. She got fussy again, and she had another bottle."

Lorelai panic turned to anger. "You gave her two whole bottles in the less than two hours I was gone? I'd just fed her - and I told you that! No wonder she's sick. She's only supposed to have one bottle every three hours. The doctor was very specific about that. What were you thinking?"

Emily twitched one shoulder in her demure version of a shrug. "She liked it. If she didn't want it, she didn't have to drink it. It made her quiet."

"You made my daughter sick because you wanted to keep her quiet?" Lorelai screamed, but lowered her voice when Rory started to sob. "Shhh... Mommy's sorry. It's okay cupcake."

Emily rolled her eyes at the pet name. "Calm down. I'm sure she's fine. She looks perfectly okay to me."

Lorelai glared at her mother. "Because your years of medical training and extensive child raising experience qualify you to make that assessment I presume."

"I raised you perfectly fine."

"I was raised by a rapid succession of nannies. As evidenced by your babysitting today, you obviously didn't get your hands dirty once with me."

Emily started to walk away. "Stop over-reacting, Lorelai."

Tears pricked at the corners of Lorelai's eyes. "Over-reacting?" she asked. "What if something you did had really made her sick? Would you have even cared? Or would you have just thought 'Oh well, that problem's off our hands'?"

Emily whipped around to face her. "Don't you dare say anything like that ever again. I adore that little girl. I would be devastated if anything happened to her - to either of you. Now, change your shirt please. It's a disgrace."

Lorelai's face softened. She couldn't recall her mother ever insinuating that she cared about her. She nodded mutely to her mothers' retreating figure. She looked down at Rory, who was on the verge of sleep. "She may not know the first thing about taking care of you, Sweets, but Grandma sure seems to like you."

Regardless of Emily's admittance, Lorelai fumed internally as she fussed over her daughter. She couldn't believe that her mother could be so irresponsible as to put her own wants above Rory, and Rory's routine.

As she placed Rory in her crib to nap, she talked softly to her. "So kiddo. Yet another strike against Emily Gilmore. We're so going to get out of here. I promise you."


	21. Who fancies a Vacation?

***Who fancies a Vacation?***

_February_

Lorelai grinned the entire way home from the paediatrician's office. After several Richard Gilmore-patented driving tests around the neighborhood, she had finally convinced her father that she was capable of driving by herself. The 3 o'clock news came over the radio as she pulled into the driveway, talking about Nelson Mandela's refusal of release, and the withdrawal of troops from Lebanon. But even the depressing news couldn't take away the ecstatic feeling coursing through her body.

She sang along to the radio loudly. The windows were wound up tightly, so she didn't have any fear of a passer-by or a fellow driver overhearing her. She belted out Duran Duran and Frankie Goes To Hollywood, followed by a classic The Who tune. Rory didn't sleep - she sat passively in her car seat in the back unperturbed by her mother's singing. It was almost like she was used to the antics already. Lorelai didn't even frown when an impatient driver cut in front of her. She internally chastised his stupidity, but it was all in jest. Nothing seemed to be able to bring Lorelai Gilmore down today. Independence looked great on her.

The attention to detail she demonstrated in her driving was astounding. She pulled slowly into the gravel driveway and pulled as close to the garden as she could, trying to park the car in the exact same spot she had taken it from - to the inch. She placed the car into Park, and turned the wheels towards the retaining wall. She was so intent on her job that she didn't notice the figure sitting on the shallow step up to her front door.

She stepped out of the car, pulling her handbag and the diaper bag with her. "Chris, what are you doing here?" She busied herself unbuckling the car seat, and juggling the bags. She initially thought that he would help her carry everything into the house, but he made no move to do so.

Christopher shurgged. "Just wanted to see my two favorite girls," he replied, standing up as she placed Rory's seat on the ground so she would have a hand free to open the front door.

Lorelai raised her eyebrows skeptically while her back was turned. She had heard the rumors - she wasn't a complete recluse - and they all said about how Chris had been 'dating' anything that moved. He seemed to be leaving a trail of broken hearts and ruined reputations in his wake. "Chris," she sighed, "why are you really here?"

Christopher flopped onto the couch, and watched passively as Lorelai carefully unbuckled Rory from her encapsulated state, quickly checked her diaper was dry, and settled herself on the couch opposite the father of her child. He looked around the room nervously, as if it were the first time he had been there.

"Dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum," Lorelai mumbled to the Jeopardy 'Think' music.

"Okay, enough with the pressure," Christopher grumbled. "I'm leaving school."

"What?" she yelled, but quickly lowered her voice when Rory startled. "What the hell do you mean, you're leaving school?"

"As in, there are many schools I have attended in the past, and a few schools left who haven't yet kicked me out, but I will not be attending any of them."

"Why?" She couldn't come up with any more words.

"Uh... because I'm flunking out." He hung his head and didn't meet her shocked gaze.

Lorelai spent a full minute trying to calm herself before she spoke again. She found that looking at Rory's face helped to keep her cool. "But you're smart enough... how are you flunking?"

Christopher stood, and starting pacing the room, unable to keep himself still under Lorelai's stare. "I didn't go to any of my mid-terms. I stole dad's credit card, and went to Florida instead."

"Why would you do something like that?" she whispered fervently, aware of the baby in her lap.

He shrugged, not seeming to care too much about the dire situation. "What's the point?"

Lorelai's face showed absolute confusion. "If you don't graduate, you can't go to college."

"Lor," he sighed. "I've been kicked out of four schools in the past year. I'm not going to graduate. Anyway, you didn't finish school..."

"Chris, that is as different as Anthony Michael Hall and James Dean. Fluoro Pink and dark grey. I didn't have a choice about finishing school - you do. And the second I'm eligible, I'm sitting my GED. What are you going to do with your life without a high school diploma?"

"Thought I'd go travelling. It's what we always wanted, right? That's why I'm here, Lor. I want you to come with me."

"Are you crazy? I can't take a four month old baby gallivanting around the world!"

Chris looked at her nonchalantly. "So leave her here."

Lorelai saw red. Her anger was indescribable. She had seen good sides and bad sides of her ex-boyfriend in the 10 or so years she had known him. He had supported her choice to keep the baby, so she had never thought he would want her to abandon their child now to chase some dream caused by a combination of boredom and wanderlust. She tried to comprehend just why someone who had been given all the opportunities that Chris had been on the receiving end of would turn his back on them. Why would he just give up on his education, when he could easily go to a great college and make something of himself. But most of all, her anger broke through.

"Get out of my house," she hissed at him.

Christopher took a double-take. "Huh? Why?"

Her voice became very low. "I am not leaving my daughter for you or anyone. For you to suggest I should is insulting. I love her with everything I am. It's just unfortunate that you don't feel the same way."

"Hey, I do .... love her."

She took great notice of the hesitation in his voice. "If you loved her, you would never suggest leaving her. Now - vamoose."

Christopher looked regretfully at the two girls. "Can I at least hold her for a minute before I'm banished?"

Lorelai didn't say anything. She just held Rory in outstretched arms.

Chris took her carefully. "I'm sorry your Dad's such a screw-up, kiddo." Watching the two together softened Lorelai considerably. It was a nice sight - and not one that had been repeated much since Rory's birth.

Lorelai interrupted the father-daughter moment from the couch. "So... don't be a screw-up. She deserves for at least one of her parents to have an education, right?"

"Uh... yeah."

"So do it. Go to your teachers and beg for a make up. Do extra credit - whatever it takes to get through the next year and a half. If you can't do it for me, do it for Rory."

Christopher sighed and returned the baby to her mother's arms. "I'll try. But if I flunk this year, I'm not repeating. It's too hard." He gave a small wave before leaving the house.

Lorelai watched him leave from the window. "Too hard? It's always too hard, isn't it Chris?" She sighed. "First it's too hard to be a Dad, and now it's too hard to finish 11th grade? Have you even really tried?" Her voice echoed slightly around the near empty room.

Regret flooded over her. She had said no to Christopher's proposal because she wanted him to have a future - to finish school, go to college and travel. Now he was giving up on those plans? He had a responsibility. He had a child, therefore he needed an education to support her, right? Instead, Christopher was going to, no doubt, flunk Junior year, and waste his life away. How would he ever be ready for his waiting family with that attitude?

She knew that she couldn't rely on him for their future. She also couldn't rely on her parents to provide the future that Rory deserved - one that was the opposite of Lorelai's upbringing. There was only one person she could rely on - herself.

Craving sweeping over her like a tidalwave, Lorelai went to the kitchen and made herself a pot of coffee. The calming effect of the brew was almost instantaneous. She pursed her lips as again she thought of Christopher's sudden announcement, and request that she join him in his choice to run away from his schooling. A year ago, before she knew about the approaching arrival of Rory, she might have considered running away with him. They could go to Europe, and find jobs in restaurants; they could bunk down in youth hostels for a couple of dollars a night; they could see the sights without the constant glare of their parents. It would have been an appetising prospect. But now, there were much more important things to take into consideration, and Chris didn't seem to realize that. He seemed to care more about his current desires than what was best in the long term.

She looked down at her daughter in her arms, and felt sadness fill her heart. It wasn't Rory's fault that her father seemed to be going completely off the rails. He had turned from a little bit of a Mommy's Boy into a well-known rebel, who was in great danger of becoming a no-hope slacker.

"It's not your fault, Sweets. He does love you - I'm sure. He's just confused at the moment. He will finish school, go to college - all that stuff. Just like we planned." The worst thing in Lorelai's mind was that she didn't believe a word she was saying.


	22. Money Honey

***Money Honey***

_April_

It had seemed like a perfect time to clean out the drawers of junk in her dresser. But when Lorelai discovered an old Bay City Rollers record which she couldn't for the life of her remember buying, the job seemed to be a much larger task than she had initially thought. The record went straight in the trash, along with their former musical career.

She wrenched out a folder labelled 'English - Sixth Grade', and opened it curiously, across the entire inside of the folder was scribbled 'Lorelai Gilmore loves Matthew Grant', 'LG 4 MG' enclosed in a heart, and 'Mrs Lorelai Grant'. She frowned as she tried to recall who this supposed love of her life was. Unlike the Bay City Rollers mystery however, there was a solution to this mind-block. She crawled over to her bookcase and pulled out her sixth grade Yearbook, flipping the pages until she found the boy in question.

"Huh," she muttered as she looked at the grainy picture. He looked vaguely familiar, but nowhere near as good-looking as Christopher was. She shrugged as she closed the yearbook and placed it back in its' place on the shelf.

There was a soft tap at the door. "Come in if you're ugly!" Lorelai called to the visitor to her bedroom.

The brand new maid-of-the-week poked her head through the door, her face bright red from the inappropriate greeting. "Uh... dinner is ready, Miss Gilmore."

"Sure," Lorelai replied. She picked Rory up from the mat where she had been lying, fascinated by the fact that her feet were, in fact, attached to her body. The girls descended the stairs only a few paces behind the maid.

"So..." Lorelai began, "what's your name?"

The maid glanced, shocked, at her mistress. It was evident that nobody else in the house had asked even the simplest question about her. "Uh... Josie, Miss."

Lorelai smirked. "Meow," she giggled.

Josie looked at her curiously. "Excuse me?"

"Josie and the Pussycats?" Lorelai prompted, but received no response. "It's a cartoon about a girl band? Was a comic book? They made them into a real band for a bit when I was a baby?" Still she received no look of recognition from the maid.

"Long tails, and ears for hats?"

Crickets.

"Every beat of my heart? Stop, look and listen? I'll be there? You've come a long way baby?"

Josie continued her blank stare.

"Huh," Lorelai muttered to herself. "So apparently the forwarding address for this one is 'Under a Rock'."

Lorelai took her seat at the otherwise deserted table, and settled Rory in her highchair. She heard her parents arguing as they emerged from the study.

"But Richard, three weeks is far too long for you to be away. I'm alone with the girls - it's hard work."

Richard chuckled. "Emily, my dear, you have a cook, a maid, a night-nanny, and 24 access to the valet service. I think you can handle things."

Emily looked like she was sulking as she took her place at the table opposite her husband. "At least when you're here, I have someone to talk to. These two keep to themselves like they're members of some sort of secret club."

Lorelai turned to Rory. "Oooh! A secret club. We should do that. We could have a secret handshake and everything."

Emily rolled her eyes at her daughter, and instructed Josie to bring out the salads.

Lorelai reached over to Rory, and began trying out handshakes, contorting Rory's hand into seemingly impossible positions. "What about a password, huh? What do you think it should be?" She leaned over, as if she were listening to a secret from the six-month-old before bursting out laughing. "That is honestly the best password ever. The parental units will never guess it."

She was met with a glare from her mother.

"When did you get home, dad?" Lorelai asked, changing the subject, and filling the impending silence. "You've been away for ages."

Richard took a sip of wine before responding. "Just this afternoon. I spent a few days visiting with your grandmother before I came back to the States. She sends her regards, and this..." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card.

Lorelai squealed. "First Birthday Card! First Birthday Card!" She bounced slightly in her chair as she ripped open the envelope.

"Lorelai," Emily admonished. "The dinner table is not a suitable place for the opening of gifts. Wait until later to open it."

Lorelai sighed and placed the half-opened card next to her plate. "Thank Gran for me when you next talk to her."

"Now," Richard continued. "How have you girls been filling your time in my absence?"

"Well, I have been extremely busy organizing the DAR Spring Fundraiser. We're donating to AIDS research this time. Dreadful choice, I think." Emily wrinkled her nose. "Vonnie Milton says that only homosexuals get it, so I don't know why we're raising money for them."

Lorelai sighed at her mother's ignorance, but bit her tongue.

"And you, Lorelai," Richard asked. "What have you been doing?"

"Uh...." She tried to think of something that wasn't feeding, burping, or changing diapers. "Rory and I have started reading 'Deenie' again. She really seems to like it."

Emily interrupted. "'Deenie'? Isn't that the dreadful book that Millie Hilfenhaus has been trying to get banned from the Preparatory School library? I heard it talked about..." She lowered her voice to a whisper and looked around guiltily. "... masturbation."

Lorelai laughed. "She doesn't know what I'm saying, and I skipped over that part anyways. She just likes being read to."

"But I don't think..."

"I'll read whatever I want to MY daughter. Got it?"

Emily didn't say anything the rest of the meal. It remained quiet and judging.

* * *

Lorelai remained at the dinner table after her parents had long since disappeared to do whatever their nightly activities were. As she ate the chocolate pudding she had persuaded Josie to give her, she stared at the envelope sitting beside her. She offered a spoonful of chocolate-y goodness to Rory, who swallowed it greedily.

"Much better than that disgusting mashed banana, huh?"

Lorelai picked up the long ago discarded envelope and pulled the card from inside. As she opened it, a piece of paper fluttered out. As well as the normal 'Happy Birthday Lorelai, From Gran' there was a check, made out to Cash, for 100 dollars. She fingered the check carefully, as she contemplated all the clothes she could buy with it. The thought excited her, until she remembered the promise she had made to Rory on New Years Eve. The promise that they would leave this foreboding house for good. She glanced at her daughter by her side, contentedly licking her chocolate-covered lips, and then around the ever still, sterile surroundings they were in. She remembered her endless days of "Don't touch that" and "Sit up straight. You're wrinkling your dress".

And so, the Escape Fund was formed. One hundred dollars should last them at least a week she thought - long enough to find a job. And if she waited until after her birthday, she was sure that more checks would join the one from Gran.

With some small details - where to get money for one - falling into place, the gravity of the situation began to hit her. Was she really going to do this? Leave the only home she had ever known, and the security of the money and life she had be brought up with? The whole idea had seemed so abstract before, and now it hit her like a ton of bricks. She was running away. Not today, and not tomorrow, but very soon - maybe a month. She was going to take Rory, and start a new life. The scared 16-year-old in her was terrified that she was making the wrong decision. She worried that she would fail, and have to come running home to mommy and daddy. But the mother in her wanted more - more for both her and Rory. She wanted a loving environment for her daughter to grow up in. And that was the most important factor here, wasn't it? It was about Rory receiving an upbringing that Lorelai had been deprived of.

She took Rory, and Gran's card up to her bedroom. This was her sanctuary. It hit her how much time she had spent in this room in the past year. It had been her place to think, and her place to cry. Her place to escape from her parents disapproving eyes. The most important days of her recent life had happened within these four walls - or on the balcony outside the window, and soon it would no longer be hers. As she placed Rory on the bed, she looked around with wistful eyes. As much as she hated this house, and what it represented, Lorelai couldn't help but feel sad to be leaving her private place.

She rummaged through her sock drawer until she came out with a barely worn white tube sock. She folded Grans' check carefully in half, and inserted it inside the sock. Opening her bottom drawer, she pushed aside several Tootsie Rolls and hid the sock beneath them.

"Goodbye pretty clothes," she sighed. "This is way more important."

As she kicked the drawer closed, she spied the discarded Bay City Rollers record in the trashcan. "Money," she sang. "Without it, how far will I get now?"


	23. Wordsworth it is not

***Wordsworth it is not***

_May_

Lorelai replaced the receiver in its' cradle, and dropped her head to her hands, sighing. It was the third time this month that she had called the Hayden house trying to get in touch with Christopher. Every time she called, she received the same reply - he had gone on an extended vacation. It disappointed her greatly to think that he hadn't even tried to finish his education, leaving school a month before finishing his Junior year. She never managed to extricate any information on his whereabouts from his cold parents -- no forwarding address, no phone number, not even if he was still in the country.

She never wavered in her faith that he could make something out of himself if he just tried. Maybe he wasn't Ivy League material like his father had insisted, but with the education he was given at Prep school, he would have gotten into a great college. Now he was gone - God only knows where - wasting away his time most likely.

She sat by the window, watching sheets of rain pour down, and the occasional streak of lightning brighten the sky. She was desperate to see Christopher before she left Hartford. He needed to know where his daughter was - just in case the penguins moved down to hell and he wanted to visit.

She was called to dinner, interrupting her angsting. She sat, playing with her green beans, making no effort at conversation. For once, however, conversation didn't seem to be necessary. Richard had a small transistor radio sitting on the table next to him, listening to news updates. The hits just kept on coming. First Emily had cancelled her Friday night plans because of the bad weather, and now she was allowing a technological device at the dinner table? Wonders would never cease. Every now and then, Lorelai would tune in to what was being reported, and heard about tornadoes occurring in Pennsylvania and New York.

"You don't think they'll make it into Connecticut?" Emily asked, her face white and drawn.

"It's always a possibility, my dear. But we'll be fine. This is a very sturdy house."

"Should I get Magda to take food down to the basement?"

Richard rounded the table, and placed his hand on Emily's arm. "We'll be fine. I doubt we'll get any around here."

Lorelai glanced out the window as a flash of lightning lit the porch up like the winner of a Christmas Lights competition. It was an unusual feeling, being surrounded on all sides by thunderstorm. It mixed the feelings she got from a horror movie with how she felt when she was small and got taken to Santa's Grotto - covered on every inch by tiny fairy lights. She excused herself from the dinnertable quietly, and ascended to the nursery, stopping to 'borrow' her father's Polaroid camera on the way.

Hovering silently over the crib, she listened to the sound of her daughter sleeping peacefully through the storm. Her small breaths made her chest rise and fall rhythmically, and soothed any anxiety that Lorelai had built up from hearing about the tornadoes only a few hundred miles from her. She smiled widely as Rory stirred and opened her eyes. Rory immediately sought out the gaze of her mother, and smiled back. The sight warmed Lorelai's heart.

The camera was pulled out, and several shots were snapped and set aside to process and dry. Lorelai picked up the baby, and took a seat at the small table in the corner, setting Rory on her lap. Knowing that overthinking wouldn't be in her best interest, she began to write quickly.

_Dear Christopher,  
__I hope that you actually receive this letter, and Adolf and Eva haven't decided that it is in your best interests to keep this from you, as seems to happen a lot.  
__Firstly, I really wish that you would go back to school like we discussed. I had thought that you would at least take my opinion seriously, but apparently you are determined to find your own path. Please - if there is one thing that you do for me, finish your education. You owe it to Rory if nothing else.  
__Secondly, the reason that I am writing to you is to tell you that we are leaving Hartford. Frankly, I can't believe that I've lasted this long around my mother. I don't know where we're going - maybe we'll join the circus for all I know - but I'll write to you again when we settle somewhere. We won't go too far. Mainly because I can't afford too much for bus fare, and also because I don't want to be too far from Hartford so that you always have the opportunity to visit. Please do that. I know that at the hospital you said you couldn't be a father, but it doesn't change the fact that you are. I have been having nightmares about the day that Rory asks me where her daddy is, and I can't answer her. So: visit. Get to know her. Let her know you. And also remember that I miss you terribly too. You have been my best friend for so long, that it physically hurts to not see you anymore. It's almost impossible to believe that one drunken night could change our once solid relationship forever. I had always thought we were like Lucy and Ricardo - but, no.  
__I am not running away - I'm not Paul __Haig__ - from you, or my parents. I guess if you want to be philosophical about things (and really, what else do I have to do with my days now except for impersonate a Rodin sculpture) I'm running towards something. I don't know what it is yet, but I just have this feeling that there is a lot more out there for us than there is here in Hartford.  
__I've got a couple of photos here for you - they've just finished drying, and man, did we make one gorgeous kid! Incredibly photogenic this one is! I'll send more photos when I get a chance.  
__I love you.  
__Lorelai (and Rory)_

As she wrote, Rory sat holding a pen, and periodically reaching out for the paper. Lorelai gave in and placed a piece of paper on the edge of the table, and to her shock, Rory managed to hold the pen in such a way to scribble on the paper.

Lorelai folded the letter into an envelope, and sighed heavily as she began to write her second letter.

_Dear Emily and Richard,  
__So. If you haven't worked it out by now, I've left, and taken Rory with me. Don't pretend to be shocked. You know as well as I do that I'm not happy here, and I don't want to raise Rory in this environment.  
__I can't tell you yet where we are - mainly because I haven't decided yet. I'll leave a phone number or something once we're settled.  
__Please don't come looking for us. I know you want to find us and bring us home, but I'll just leave again. It won't be worth it.  
__Give me time. Then maybe we can consider spending Christmas together or something. I just need space.  
__Lorelai_

It took more strength than previously to seal the envelope on this letter. She felt like she really had told her parents about her impending relocation instead of just writing it.

Holding Rory in one arm, she took the letters and hid them in the bottom of her purse, and went back downstairs. She was confronted with her mother on the verge of hysteria.

"Call Melinda, Lorelai. Tell her not to come tonight. It's too dangerous to be out driving."

Lorelai frowned. "What's going on?" she asked her father, who seemed much calmer than his wife.

Richard kept his voice low. "Those tornadoes - people have been killed. And there's no sign of the weather letting up."

Lorelai nodded, gave Rory to Emily to hold, and went to the kitchen to make the call. Melinda was relieved to not have to brave the storm for that one night. As she hung up, she stared at the telephone, wishing that Christopher would just call to check in. Any contact - no matter how small - would be appreciated.

Returning to the living room, Lorelai stood in the doorway, and observed the scene. Emily talked to Rory, explaining all the preparations which were going on for the Friends of Hartford Memorial Library Society gala dinner. She seemed to actually be happy to be spending time with her granddaughter. A twinge of guilt ran through Lorelai's body, but she quickly shook it off, knowing that any hesitation, or reconsideration of her plan, would be fruitless in the longterm.

A flash of lightning lit the room before it was suddenly shrouded in darkness - the power cut off by the storm.

"Stay where you are. I'll get a torch," Richard called to the girls. A minute later, he appeared, surrounded by a small light. He led them upstairs, and settled Lorelai and Rory into her bedroom candles lighting the bedside table.

By candlelight, the two girls sat in bed, as Lorelai read the first chapter of The Wind in the Willows out loud. When sleep began to overcome them, Lorelai returned Rory to her crib, now moved from the nursery by her father, and settled in for a night with her daughter.

"Goodnight Sweets," she called as sleep settled around them. "We're about to start our new lives. Are you as scared as I am?"


	24. How to REALLY Move a Stroller

*****How to REALLY move a stroller*****

"It's just not acceptable, Lorelai," Emily admonished, pushing back her chair and leaving the table with her lunch still unfinished.

"But why not? She's my kid. I can dress her however I want."

"One does not wear overalls to a cocktail party. It's just not done. It doesn't matter if you are a baby."

An evil smile spread across Lorelai's face. "Then we won't go. No biggie. I have some serious Charles in Charge watching to catch up on."

Emily looked at her daughter blankly for a second before shaking herself back into the present. "Regardless of whatever that is, you are coming to the Rutherford's party tonight, and you will ensure that both of you are dressed appropriately. I want you ready to go when I get back from the hairdressers. I'll be three hours."

"Not gonna happen, 'cause we're not going."

"You are going, young lady," Emily called to her daughter's retreating back.

Lorelai twirled around and smiled innocently. "You can have it one way or the other... _Mom._" She emphasized the pronoun. "Either we go to this thing, and we wear what I want, and act how I want, or we don't go at all. It's completely up to you."

Emily scowled, knowing full well that she was cornered. She weighed up her options - what was Lorelai capable of when she was in a vindictive mood? She internally conceded that her standing would suffer a much smaller hit by her family not being present in full force than by Lorelai making a spectacle of herself. She still wanted to save face in front of her daughter though. "Don't come then," she shrugged. "I don't mind either way, frankly."

Lorelai pretended to be considering the choice. "I choose staying home. The only one of the people my age who I would want to hang out with isn't going to be there - since he has apparently run away. I'd be willing to wager my Police Synchronicity t-shirt that I'll have a much better time here - just me and my progeny. We can hang out, read Teen Beat, eat junk food..."

"Rory eating junk food? Rory - who has only recently mastered solids?"

"I'm sure you have some very strong opinions on that subject, don't you, Mother?"

"Why, yes, I do..." Emily stormed, pacing around the room so fiercely, Lorelai was sure she was going to wear a path in the carpeting.

"And I'm sure you remember that your opinion holds about as much water as Reaganomics."

"Don't you criticize the policies of our beloved President, young lady!"

"Oh! I would never do that, especially in front of you," Lorelai replied, sarcasm dripping off her voice like Rocky Road icecream.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emily called to Lorelai's retreating figure.

Lorelai chuckled to herself as she left the dining room, knowing she had won this round.

* * *

There was a loud knock on the door, and Emily barged into the room without waiting to be granted entrance.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" she fumed.

Lorelai looked up from watching The Cosby Show, and looked at her mother blankly. "Well, that all depends on what the 'telling' part is. You might need to repeat yourself a few times if you 'tell me' that there's a purple elephant dancing in a tutu in our living room. If it's something obvious, like Hartford is the most boring town on the planet, then yeah - you won't need to repeat that one."

Emily huffed. "How many times do I have to tell you to move the stroller from the foyer? It is getting in everyone's way."

"Everyones? Or yours?"

"Don't get smart with me. Just move it."

"Where do you suppose I move it to? The kitchen? The swimming pool? Your bedroom? Send it off with the dancing elephant? By the way, how much is traditional to tip purple elephants?"

"The coat closet? The basement? I don't care. Just get rid of it!"

"Yip. That'll be handy - dragging it up from the basement every time we go out. Well done, Mrs Gilmore."

Emily scanned the room for the first time since she had entered. "Lorelai - move the stroller. And do something about this room too. It looks like an Indian slum. I half expect Gandhi to wander past."

"You could buy some Wombles," Lorelai suggested. "Not only are they cute and cuddly, they'll also clean up for me. Two birds with one stone, right there. Fun for me, less work for the maid - when you hire the next one. Ask Gran to pick one up next time she's in Wimbledon Common."

Lorelai chuckled to herself as she watched her mother stomp out of the room.

* * *

As she watched her mother pull out of the driveway, bound for her hairdressers appointment, Lorelai felt her heart start pounding. Emily was gone for a least a couple of hours; Richard was at work until four; and they were currently between maids. The house was empty, and this could be the only time that this opportunity presented itself for a while. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, psyching herself up for what she needed to do.

Checking Rory was still sleeping, she climbed up to the attic, and found the largest knapsack - one that had belonged to her father during his college years. Taking it back to her bedroom, she half filled it with clothes and a few toiletries. She chose practical outfits that could be mixed and matched - jeans, leggings, several baggy t-shirts and sweaters. Rory's clothes took up considerably less space in the bag.

She filled the diaper bag with as much formula and as many diapers as she could cram in, and filled her purse with small jars of baby food. As an afterthought, she added one of Emily's beloved silver teaspoons.

There was one more thing she needed - and it would take up the rest of the room in the knapsack. From under her bed, she pulled out her old wish box. She opened it, checking its' contents were still all there. Gone were the Vassar brochures, the photos of Christopher, and the postcards. They were replaced with things from when Rory was born - her walkman, the Bananarama onesie she made, the phone number of the guy she met at the hospital, both their hospital bracelets... She walked around the room, and added as many photos of Rory as she could squeeze into the box.

She looked longingly around the room, and panicked as she heard a car outside the window. She rushed to the balcony, and peered down to the driveway.

"Oh, thank god!" she sighed as she saw that it was just a car in the neighbor's driveway, not her own.

The next sound made her heart start pounding yet again - the sound of Rory crying.

"I'm coming, baby!" she yelled towards the third floor. "This is it," she whispered to herself, and pulled the sock now filled with money, and shoved it in her back pocket. She quickly grabbed the knapsack, diaper bag, and her purse, and ran them down to the first floor foyer, where the stroller was sitting.

By the time she made it up to the crib, she was puffing from the sudden exertion.

"Hey, Munchkin," she smiled, relaxing at the sight on her daughter. "You ready to go on a trip? It'll be just like our own big adventure - you'll love it. Just you and Mommy." She checked the diaper was still dry, changed her into a tiny pink shirt and overalls, and carried her slowly downstairs.

Lorelai buckled Rory into the stroller, placed the letter to her parents on the piano, and opened the coat closet. By the time winter came around again, Rory's coat would barely make it over her legs, so she decided that wouldn't be worth taking. She ignored how warm it was out, and shrugged her own winter coat over her shoulders, added the knapsack to her back, and laced the diaper bag and purse onto the stroller handles.

With one last glance, she left - closing the door firmly behind her. She gave a longing look towards 'her' car, parked in the driveway, but forced herself to walk past it. If she was going to make it on her own, she wasn't going to do it in a brand new Mercedes. As she began the long walk into the Central Bus Station, apprehension overcame her, and her shoulders began to shake as the tears rolled down her cheeks.


	25. Serendipity

**A/N: **I did it! This fic is finally finished! Before I start with the party hats, the confetti and the strippers, I need to thank all my lovely reviewers, and everyone who listened to me complaining and stressing. You guys rock!

*****Serendipity*****

Hartford Union Station was relatively quiet at four in the afternoon. Cleaners tried their best to make the place tidy before the evening rush, and bored-looking tellers filed their nails as they kept one eye on the travellers camped out on the uncomfortable wooden seats. Lorelai bypassed the trains and headed for the bus schedules. Thomas and Friends weren't going to be in their budget today. Glancing up at the board, she scanned the departures, trying to decide where to go. It was a daunting prospect. She dismissed the out-of-state cities - New York, Chicago, Boston, Buffalo - until her eyes found one close enough to be in her budget. Litchfield, CT it would be.

She clumsily moved all her belongings to the ticket counter. "Uh, one youth and one child for Litchfield please."

The girl behind the counter seemed put out to have to deal with a customer. "How old are 'ya?"

"Seventeen," Lorelai squeaked out, hoping she wouldn't get charged an adult fare.

"'Kay. That's $4.85 for you. And your... sister... under five?"

Lorelai almost snorted, and looked at Rory - who was so obviously under five the question was ridiculous. "Yeah. She is."

"She'll be free, but if the bus is full, 'ya hafta hold her on 'ya knee. Got it?"

She nodded at the girl, and exchanged her money for two tickets. She trudged to collapse on an empty bench, momentarily losing her balance and slipping off the seat, before righting herself, glancing around to check nobody had noticed her clumsiness. She rummaged around in her bag until she found a bottle of formula - it would have to be cold, but that couldn't be helped - and pulled a just-rousing Rory into her lap to feed.

As Rory ate, Lorelai surveyed the concourse, sighing at the salivation that occurred when she noticed a pretzel cart not far from her. It seemed unfair the number of people who were walking past her with food in their hands. But Lorelai scolded herself, reminding that she needed to save her money for more important things - diapers, food for Rory, summer clothing for the baby. She closed her eyes to block out the vision of pretzels, donuts and coffee trailing past her bench, and concentrated on the suckling sound coming from her daughter.

* * *

They had been travelling for almost half an hour when Rory started crying. Nothing seemed to calm her down. Lorelai tried singing 'The Wheels on the Bus' over and over and over until she felt like Shari Lewis. She tried pointing out things through the window. She tried giving her some chocolate she charmed from the man across the aisle. She checked her diaper. Other passengers started staring at the two when Rory's cries became louder, rising to a crescendo as they saw the first signs of a small town. Lorelai cringed as she heard the mutterings coming from all around her.

"Please, Rory, honey. Calm down for Mommy," she frantically whispered. She pulled a pacifier out of the diaper bag, and thrust it into the Rory's mouth. Almost immediately, it was spit out again, much to Lorelai's frustration, and the screaming continued.

The bus slowed and came to a halt. One woman near the front left the bus as the driver meandered down the aisle. Nobody was surprised when he came to a stop next to Lorelai's seat. He looked at her apologetically. "I've had complaints," he sighed.

"I know," Lorelai cried. "She's never like this. Normally she the most placid kid you've met in your life. I swear. She's Rachel Penmark before all the murder and stuff. She'd fit right in at the Little House on the Prairie. If she were a gymnast, her name would be Nadia."

The bus driver, with the nametag of Simon, shook his head and lowered his voice. "I'm sorry kid. It's policy - anyone who disrupts other passengers has to be evicted."

Lorelai looked up at him with big blue eyes. "You're kicking me off in the middle of God knows where with a seven-month-old?"

Simon tried to avoid her gaze, knowing if he looked at her he wouldn't be able to hurt her in any way. "I'm sorry." He nodded his head towards the luggage hold beneath the bus. "I'll get your bags out." And with that, he left her to collect up her coat, purse, diaper bag and baby.

She kept her eyes on the floor as she made her way to the front of the bus, careful not to notice the judging stares of the other passengers.

On the sidewalk, Simon was slamming the luggage door closed. "That was it, right?" He pointed to the stroller and knapsack on the ground.

Lorelai nodded silently, and looked around her. "Um... where are we?" She jiggled Rory on her hip, without any success in calming the crying.

"Stars Hollow," he replied, as he started to climb back into the bus. "Only about ten minutes 'til Litchfield. Maybe five dollars for a cab? Or there'll be another bus at 6:20." With that, the doors closed between them, and the bus pulled away from the curb.

It was eerie - the very second the bus pulled away, Rory stopped crying, and smiled. Lorelai looked at her suspiciously. "It's almost like you did that on purpose, Chim-Chim," she laughed, the stress of the bus melting away.

She took in her surroundings slowly. Behind her was a small park with a children's playground, and in front of her was a pretty town square, complete with newly painted gazebo, and strategically placed trees dotting the area. The square was surrounded by small, unobtrusive stores, all in that style that screamed small town New England. Clumps of daffodils were scattered everywhere, and even in the early evening fading light, it seemed brighter and calmer than she had ever seen Hartford. She thought about the picture of the white picket fence house that has been in her wish box - she could really picture that house being in this town.

"Well, honey, I guess this is as good a place as Litchfield. Should we stay here?"

"Ba-ya," Rory babbled.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

Lorelai looked around for any sign of a motel, inn, B&B... anything. But she couldn't see anything. "Well... your dad would be really proud, because at this rate, we might end up sleeping on a park bench. That's been his dream for years. Admittedly, it was supposed to be in Paris, not a tiny Northern Connecticut town, but I think this would count. Do you? So... considering I was completely against doing the whole bench thing before you came around, we should probably find somewhere to stay. After all, we two are much more Holly Golightly than Annie Johnson."

She loaded her belongings into the stroller, keeping Rory on her hip, and made her way over to where a yellow sign in the window proclaimed 'Weston's Bakery'. She arrived at the door just as an elderly woman was clearing a table in the window. Hesitantly, she pushed open the door. The bakery was empty except for the woman.

"Evening, dear," she called as she made her way back to behind the counter. "What can I get you?"

Lorelai bit her lip momentarily. "Actually I just need directions. We need somewhere to stay. And a job after that. Are there any hotels or anything around here?"

"What's your name, hon?"

"Lorelai, ma'am. And that one's Rory."

"I'm Fran. Take a seat. You new in town, or just passing through?" Fran reached into the cabinet and pulled out two sugar cookies, and took them to the table along with a pen and paper. She gave a cookie to each of the girls and took a seat opposite them.

"I guess we're new to town." The statement hit her as she said it. "Wow. We're new to town. I hadn't really thought this far ahead - all I was focused on was leaving Hartford."

"So you're from Hartford?"

Lorelai nodded, and watched as Rory sucked on the cookie. Fran, on the other side of the table, was busy drawing a map.

"Here's where we are." Fran pointed on the map. "And if you go down here, and round into Oak, there is The Independence Inn. Ask for Mia. She'll look after you."

Lorelai stood up and pocketed the map. "Thanks Fran." She headed to the door.

"Here." Fran handed her a paper bag with more cookies in it.

"Oh that's really not necessary."

"Don't be silly. We need to fatten you girls up - skinny as a rake you are."

Lorelai hesitated before smiling and taking the bag. She wasn't used to people being this nice - especially without wanting something in return. She considered that this might be a really nice place to live. "Thank you," she whispered, resulting in a friendly smile from her benefactor.

"Any time. I'll see you around town."

As the door closed behind Lorelai and Rory, Fran picked up the phone and dialled a familiar number. "Yes, can I speak to Mia please?"

* * *

Lorelai approached the front desk of The Independence Inn with apprehension. The bellboys chatting in the corner kept glancing at her, judging. She felt out-of-place. It was a new feeling - she was so used to belonging in the high class Hartford society, that to not belong in a place like this was ... weird. She suddenly had great sympathy for Sabra Tanner in Sorority Girl. The woman behind the desk was opening mail and sorting it into piles. She looked up with an undisguised sneer when she noticed Lorelai standing before her.

Lorelai bit her lip under the scrutinizing gaze. "Uh... is Mia available?"

"And who may I say is enquiring?"

"Um... Lorelai Gilmore?"

"Take a seat Miss Gilmore, and I will see if she is taking callers."

Lorelai felt like she was cluttering up the foyer as she primly took a seat on a long couch. She had just pulled Rory out of the stroller and into her lap, where she instantly snuggled into her mother sleepily, having just woken up from a nap which lasted the time from Westons to the inn, when a petite woman sat down next to her.

"Lorelai?" she questioned.

Lorelai spun around to face the woman, shocked with how quickly she was being attended to. "You must be Mia," she smiled. "Fran in the bakery said that I should come to you for somewhere to stay...? The cheapest room you've got?" She heard how everything was coming out as a question, and tried to stop it. "Until I find a job, we're kinda broke."

Mia nodded sympathetically.

Lorelai thought for a moment as she looked around the grand foyer. One look down at Rory, and she knew what she needed to ask. "Actually, Mia..." She looked the older woman in the eye. "I need a job. I'm willing to do anything. Anything. Please." Again, she bit her lip - hard - waiting for Mia's answer. She was fully prepared to hear her say 'no'. In her mind, she tried to think of her other options. Could she afford to stay at the inn while she looked for a job? Should she take a cab to Litchfield, where a larger town would surely have more jobs? If she couldn't find work, how long would it take before she was forced to return to Hartford? Her mind was whirring at such a rate, that she almost didn't hear Mia's answer.

"Come with me. We'll see what we can do."

Lorelai felt the emotion sweep over her. Happy tears stung the corner of her eyes as she watched Mia take hold of her knapsack, and indicate she should follow back to her office.

Perched precariously on the edge of Mia's guest chair, Lorelai jiggled Rory on her lap.

"What job experience do you have?" Mia asked, glancing down at the papers in front of her.

Lorelai reddened. "None," she answered in a low voice.

"I had a call from Fran earlier, and she said she had a good feeling about you, so I'll give you a chance. I have a position open for a maid if you think you can handle that. Since you don't have any experience, it would be on a trial basis. Do you think you can handle that?"

Lorelai nodded sagely, hope filling her slowly. "I'll be the best maid you've had. I promise."

Mia chuckled. "We'll see, shall we?"

* * *

Rory had just fallen asleep in the inn's Portacrib, and Lorelai fell, exhausted, on her new bed. She studied the worn pink bedspread that adorned the bed, and traced her fingers over the delicate quilting. Beyond the plain white pillow was peeling, slightly yellowed wallpaper. Mia had promised that if they stayed for any prolonged period, they would replace it with something new - maybe something more girlie. The room had an open claw-foot bath which sat on the other side of the bed, and a separate toilet and basin in the very small adjoining room. But the modest accommodation didn't seem to matter. Lorelai Gilmore, brought up in luxury, used to having all the finer things in life, suddenly didn't care that she was now at the bottom of the food chain.

It was hard to describe, but as she surveyed her new domain, a new feeling overcame her. It was a feeling of calm and happiness that she couldn't remember feeling in over a year. But now she had finally done it - she had escaped. She had taken the jump. A jump that most people she knew wouldn't have the courage to take, especially not with a seven-month-old baby. She knew that living without the security of her parents would be the hardest thing ever - possibly harder than giving birth had been. Possibly even worse than finding out that Mork and Mindy was being cancelled. But she wasn't scared. This was the best decision she could have made. She knew that to watch Rory grow up in that house would break her heart.

As Lorelai climbed under the bedspread, she exhaled deeply, relaxation sweeping over her. This was right. This could end up being home.


End file.
